The turbulent world seemed to spin around me. At the terminal, I felt queasy, thinking of an abrupt crash that could end my life on this far from serene day. My mind was simulating the worst crash in airplane history, the kind of accident that makes you think, “Oh my gosh, how in the world did that happen?” when you watch it on You Tube, a crash so bad that the remaining airplane parts are sent to the dump, not the hangar, and one of those I’m-glad-that-wasn’t-me ordeals. I thought the pilots would refuse to fly with this weather, but they both climbed into the cockpit to prepare for take-off. As I boarded the bloodcurdling commercial flight, I realized that the only thing I actually liked about plane rides, the aerial view, would be impossible to see through the pouring rain. I dejectedly buckled my seatbelt. Taking in a long deep breath, I wondered if I was over exaggerating a little. But before I could ponder this any further, the plane took off into the dark day and flew higher and higher.