Flight to London
I look out of the plane window and see famous land marksSquashed like a sardine in a tin, tension mounting a women nagging babies crying Once glamorous, now routine, air hostesses sweating in their square jackets. mechanically miming safety code; eyes fixed on sights unseen. Elbows close to our bodies tense and waiting; I pray that we will not crash in the Irish Sea floating on a raft is not right for me. New earplugs squeezing my pressured ears. Plane vibrating; seat belt ti...