Friday into Saturday

Icon-type silhouette of an airplane. (Mainly t...

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The work week ends. Evening begins to settle in. Housekeeping that has gone too long ignored at last being attended to. Surfaces cleared, papers filed, everything put in its place, floors swept or vacuumed. Closets reorganized, even. Highly productive, highly satisfying. Garbage bagged for removal, even the recycling ready to go out… Still light out, the sky only beginning to turn deeper shades of blue in preparation for sunset and darkness. I look up at a plane flying remarkably low overhead. Well, Newark isn’t so far away, really. What is surprising is that for all it is low to us, I don’t hear it. Strange. I continue back to the apartment. Venus is bright in the sky to my right, the only “star” that’s visible yet. As I turn to climb the stair, I look over my left shoulder. Another plane is following the first one. Based on the direction, this is the takeoff, not landing, queue for Newark. I still can’t hear the planes. How can they be so close, and yet so silent?


Morning. I shake off the grogginess of sleep. Morning rituals. The scale offers me a 1-pound reprieve, a small step nearer to a healthier me. I start coffee. Downstairs, my neighbors turn on music, to me it’s just base through the floor. The refrigerator hums. The computer harddrive grinds. The coffeemaker beeps its readiness. Downstairs a commercial shouts, and then a new song begins. Outside I hear car doors, a dog barks, a plane flies over.Last night was so silent, so peaceful. This morning seems obnoxiously loud. I think I need an aspirin.


About aka gringita
Flotsam generator. Amateur photographer. Avid traveler. Christ follower.

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