First flight

Felt the need to hold onto something. Armrest? No. Seat up front? No. Sides of the window? No. Nothing to hold. Not in this ascent. Not while trespassing the clouds this way, leaving earth until it seemed like an irregular, unintelligible microchip. Let me tell you, I thought, when we were up that awkward diagonal, that it'd be the most natural thing to get sucked back down, by the tail. I'm violating something, I am! I must be. Desecrating some azure god, or other. Far motor roars did not assure at all, not against the gracious great balls of cotton. The attendant's pearly smile did no good, even beneath an odd, aquiline nose. And some cool disc jockey voice reminding us to turn off cellphones, in both tongues too, well, that's just great. I'm with a fistful of strangers, raping the sky, and my ears are up to this, somehow, ringing, ringing. Eyes straight down though, a spiderline of futile anchor. I brace my stomach against revolt.