Red-eye flight
A small delight on a red-eye flight from Tokyo to Vancouver - whoever knows that a paper cup of ice cream can teach you life lessons? There are many reasons that people can't sleep on a flight: One, the mere reason that we are floating in the middle of nowhere inside a gigantic metallic vestibule thrusting everywhere clinging onto nothing. Two, the overloading of the senses: the whizzes and hums from the engines the flickering on and off of the halo reading light from that insomniac passenger the intermittent cracking of the pilot's voice over the intercom the air prickling under your skin the arid bitter clump in your throat the potpourri of stale bread, clothes, and perfume all churning into a thick blanket suffocating you to the very core. Three, you toss and turn in your juice-stained hoodie, hoping to have a nanosecond of rest but all was in vain and you think how draining it is to be packed more than in a sardine can, up ten thousand feet while down the gentle ground, ...