It was morning on the beach, bright and windy. We had just eaten lots of dry toast and oranges and drank an extra cup of coffee each, so we found ourselves dancing and doing handstands on the wet sand. Two seagulls sat on a piece of nearby driftwood, nodding and waiting to dodge our wild, flailing legs.
The plane landed early, at 10:03am. As we pulled into the gate, I watched a brown bird land on the wing of the plane, shuffle its feathers, and rest. Sometimes you just need that extra wing.
Last night, I lay in bed wide awake, staring out the window at the Christmas lights dangling from a balcony across the street. A plane flew overhead. Then another. Then another. There were five planes in total. Electric, blinking birds. Were they chasing each other?