People I'll Never See
The plane’s shadow crosses millions. New York to Berlin. Millions of shadowy faces hidden beneath the air between me and the Earth. Staring out the window, I consider those who inhabit the shadow for those brief periods of time. Maybe an older businessman, eager to see his family. Maybe a young child on a playground. Those two thoughts don’t bother me. I consider the quiet girl trapped under the shadow. Sundress on, ignoring the world, strolling alone through a crowded city. Eager to find company, eager to find a friend.
This thought pains me, more so than any jet lag can. The soul that the plane will fly over, passing without a stop. Maybe she’ll look up and see my flight. Maybe she’ll think about the passengers on board, about a quiet lost soul looking for another quiet lost soul.
Or maybe she wont.
I don’t think it matters anyway.