I sat there in that large white commercial jet plane at Fort Lauderdale International Airport.
I had just turned sixteen.
My father rested beside me,
filled with the excitement of the oncoming vacation to Cancun, Mexico
where we meet up with the Grand Sunset Princess
Resort.
However,
his brain also clogged up with the viscous sludge of fatigue caused by lack of sleep at home.
Suddenly, the high pitched squeal of the turbines blasted into my ears like water from a fire hose.
I looked out, and I realized that this magical flying ship
had finally decided to sail into the skies ahead.
Although the “royal” and “divine” thrones which we settled upon felt like solid blocks of
cold steel,
the thought of streaking through the air like a bullet drowned out any misery.
Also, this bullet-like ship aimed towards a place unlike my
dull home in Harrisonburg, Virginia, where I would usually just pace
indefinitely
in the dark and dreary dungeons
of my mind.
Finally, several hours later, we disembarked from the glorious ship
scintillating in the sunlight
and into the warm fruity air of the Mexican Peninsula,
a unique world of differences.