Airplane Tale

I am sitting in a plane on my way to Chicago, the sun have being so generously posing its multiple arms and legs on half of my body since we departure and it feels amazing specially in my legs, leaning back and being and observer from my ordinary place I can peacefully watch little details from the other passengers and is extremely satisfying to experience so many intimate behaviors that some how in the city down there on the ground we cannot see that easily in daily life. Just above every sit I can see little moves by the heads of the other passengers in front of me, the suave moves of their fingers over and between their hair or the slow embracing from an arm over and towards somebody's shoulder, two necks reposing towards each other or two foreheads leaning to touching point slowly so slowly that I can imagine a fragile soft kiss from here, the minimalistic and care-full scratching of an ear, the minuscule child like moves of the pupils when somebody look through the window and see the clouds so closer to the plane, the precious touch of hands against the cover of a book or the nostalgic passing of last pages of it and the cautious movement of the neck in response to knowing some great pleasure will end soon, the almost primitive act of picking a glass full of juice or water or just ice cubes towards the mouth and the animalistic nervousness on dropping some object to the floor, the thoughtful moment of a meditation before to start a letter or a simple note, the caressing of time with the safe thought of not being able to rush some place, the sun being so generously posing its multiple arms and legs over half of my body and me sitting here on a plane on my way to Chicago.
On Air
by The Shortfellow
22/10/13