I am tooling along at 33,000 feet above sea level, in an airplane, somewhere halfway between Colorado and Georgia. And I'm blogging.
Out my window is a blanket of cloud that makes me feel like I am flying over a giant iceberg, and at the horizon, white meets bluesky as if it has been photoshopped into a sharp transition. Too real to feel real, this view.
What words will fly from my fingers at this lofty height? Probably nothing any better or brighter than usual...but they'll FEEL different. Lighter, more effervescent, misty, breezy and ephemeral as the clouds below me. I may have to book flights just to get this sense of important writing....If my wallet can handle it. Or maybe I'll just have to let my words take me to new heights.
The Final Snippet: For the love of all that is unholy...(overheard on the flight deck)