‘There is a point in the sky above the Crease through which all domestic flights must physically travel in order to reach their destination. This ‘Flight Nexus’ is among the safest of the Crease’s offerings, a quiet and starry viewpoint that can only be half-enjoyed, for while it provides a respite from the dangers of the journey, it is invariably a midpoint. The journey must continue and the dangers of the Crease surround it.’
I’ve never flown on a plane. Not in all my 34 years. I’ve bought plane tickets, but only because there are destinations in the Guide that are past security. One was a locker system that impossibly shuffled its contents. One was a smoking room that a traveler could become lost in, the fog inside so thick as to impede visibility and the room’s walls so wide as to defy the space that contained them.
Airports haven’t sold me on the idea of flight, but I see grace in the criss-cross patterns of ‘The Flight Nexus and wonder if my heart hasn’t opened to the idea. Not now, but in the future. Someday, maybe, my journey will be about the destination and everything else will be an inconvenience.
I spend more time than I should and peel myself away only when the cold drives me into the camper which shifts slow, left and right, left and right, so that I’m too seasick to sleep. I start the drive out early, sure that I’ll sleep better elsewhere, some place in the shade of this dangerous valley.
I’m almost through the Crease now.
-traveler
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