Flying at night is so completely different. There is no welcoming white blankets or vast blue calm staring back. Instead it's life. Millions of twinkling lives of every color and this is what it must be like to be living a life. Turning lights on and turning lights of. But it takes so much more and yet here they all are doing it.
As we pass other planes in the sky and the cockpits buzz their hellos like bikers on roads, I wonder about all the animals tucked neatly in rows: are they coming or going? are they leaving or staying? are they trying? are they liars?
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