The Trajectory of Planes

Sometimes when I look up, I see scraps of blue

instead of orange

and, for a moment, I remember my same eyes looking up at the same sky and seeing white clouds and light smudges that mapped the trajectory of planes.

I was obsessed - obsessed with the feeling of flight and the people in the round boxes heading to places I wanted to go too. I always looked up at the blue and white sky and hoped for planes - hoped for travel and new lands.

But the world always rights itself, and now when I look up I am reminded of two things:

1) this sky is not blue, and

2) I found a world where no one could go.


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