Flying to Vienna. Out today and back tomorrow. Check-in, customs and security. No creams, no blades, no liquids, no gels, no toothpaste. Shoes off, belts off, phones off, take off. Viewed from above, the wind-teased cloud tops are the same colour and consistency as the froth on the cappuccino I drank in the departure lounge.
at thirty-six thousand feet
is always blue
Sachertorte, einspanner coffee, sturm, schnitzel and strudel. On the journey home, the only excess baggage I'm carrying is around my waist. Along with German MTV, ads for chocolate cake and dubbed episodes of Mr Bean, the in-flight entertainment video monitors display our location, our altitude, our speed and the outside temperature.
the curvature of the Earth
the plane's wing rimed with frost
by Charles Christian
first published in Blithe Spirit, March 2007