Star struck

Flew across the straight today. Can't imagine why that guy would want to sit up with the pilot and then read a newspaper the whole way... waste of a good seat. If I do say so myself.

My seat had a front row view of the stars, a few thousand feet up, of course. Tiny specks of sparkles shimmered on the water like fireflies bouncing on and off and around summer-time willow trees. Then, a huge mass of ocean-stars oscillated like the hum of herring floundering on the surface. All kinda blinding, like metal reflecting back millions of miles towards the sun, but stopping in my eyes instead.

Every night when we close the door after reading about ninjas and pirates and mice and puppies we sit in the dark and stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars on the walls. That's another good seat. By the time I kiss good-night and get up and reach them, they have faded.

Seats aren't worth wasting. Life fades too fast.