The Sky And The Earth by Leif Starbuck Just as soon as he arrived, Bjørn was anxious to get out of that hellhole airport. He checked his pockets again, making sure everything was there; wallet, keys, passport, boarding pass. His laptop bag tugged on his neck and shoulder muscles, causing him to again run his fingers up to the strap and adjust the way it sat on his skin. But there was no relief. The only relief would be when he stepped on board, found his seat, and tucked the black leather bag into an upper compartment. He was anxious to see his girlfriend. She’d been upset about the way he had to suddenly leave town, two weeks ago. She understood how it was with his work, but still he felt terrible. Still, it meant that he was constantly apologizing. This weekend would be a chance to make it all up to her – he’d reserved one night for the two of them at a luxurious ryokan, in a quiet Japanese hot springs town. It’d be good for him, too. The work week had been especially brutal. The gate agents had announced his row, thank god, and it was time to board. He handed off his boarding pass to the agent, and it made a gentle electronic chime meaning that it was valid. He walked down the carpeted corridor for what was probably the ten thousandth time in his life. When he was a kid he used to be especially superstitious and thought that if he skipped down this corridor then he’d make it to his destination okay. But that was years ago. He had no more time or energy for these kinds of nervous feelings – for him, this was normal. Boring, even. “Good morning,” said a blonde flight attendant with cherry red lipstick. The air inside the 777 was stale with coffee, sweat, and whatever meat was still lingering from yesterday’s meal service. He found his seat in the front section, just behind first class. His shoulder, blessedly relieved, now was able to help hoist the laptop bag deep into the overhead bin. Sighing, he sat down in the middle seat and strapped himself in with the clinking metal seat buckles. He was one of the first passengers on the plane, so he let his face reveal a relaxed smile as he gazed around the cabin, watching the others board. He could almost feel the hot springs warming his face. Bjørn had opted to have one of the seats which was sandwiched between two people in the center column. It was a little cheaper, and he honestly didn’t mind. To his left sat a young brunette girl carrying a small baby. She greeted him and apologized profusely for having to sit so close to a stranger, and offered him some earplugs and an eye mask in case the baby girl started crying. He said it probably wouldn’t be necessary, but that it was a nice gesture and he accepted the items anyway. To his right sat a thin old man with gold-rimmed glasses and a blue short-sleeve dress shirt. He was quiet, looking perhaps a little somber, like he had just been to a funeral. He avoided his gaze and instead buried himself in a Clancy novel almost immediately after sitting. He’d try to disturb them both as little as possible. When on a long flight, he always ate and drank in very small portions to minimize bathroom trips. His aim was always to fall asleep, though it never happened. But he’d planned for that too, with a bag with two books – a novel, and a guide to music theory. He also had a smartphone filled to the brim with podcasts. Of course, there was also the inflight entertainment system. Finally, the aircraft powered on its engines, causing the lights to flicker. and the cabin to rumble softly. The massive vehicle moved backward slowly from its gate. Minutes later they were in the air. For the next twelve hours the world required nothing of him. It was freeing. Soon, the lights in the cabin were shut off and the passengers were still and quiet. The window shades were down for those who wanted to catch up on sleep. In the seat to his left, the baby girl, bouncing on her mother’s knee, was giggling and playful, making good eye contact. To his right, the old man who had been flipping through his novel now had his hands crossed in his lap, he had nodded off.