Leading Lights

Leading Lights

The fuzzy red plane blanket lays in my lap like a cat. It matches the color of the flowers on my water bottle in the seat pocket in front of me. All that's left is to buckle my seatbelt and then I'm set.

All set and yet not settled. Moving is one of the most unsettling things, in particular leaping over the sea to it–the new settlement, the settling into a another life.

Blue and green torches light up the plane's path with red in the distance. Those are the colors I felt today. Blue was the color of the button to the elevator to go upstairs and look for my check-in desk. Monitor after monitor blinked blue but none nominated my air company. The blues led me to a no-nonsense worker motioning to wait as she no-nonsensed into her walkie talkie. I checked my boarding pass. Oh, no–terminal C! Terminal C, not E! In fact, the no-nonsense lady explained in as few words as possible that I had to go back downstairs and exit the building.

I rushed to find the green–the correct check in desk. But even though I found it my bag was not green–I had to switch my stuff from pink to black in record time. I could only hope I had grabbed everything important out of it.

I heaved my black pack onto my back and tried to loosen my load by throwing away my florescent green running shoes. I exchanged them for black, sparkly ones.

"Go, go: follow the green through Security!" I thought. "Only a bit longer now until I see the sweet green of my gate."

And there it was: I had reached it right on time. A pitstop to the bathroom and a quick note to my family and I was good to go. I had always been right on time for everything even when I was late. 

I watch the white lights as the plane leans into the future.

Photo: Nikita  Grishin: https://www.pexels.com/photo/close-up-view-of-an-airplane-engine-during-night-time-10320757/

Text: Kristen Mastromarchi