The sun does meet my gaze as I rise through Midwest haze. Wisps of dark flee to the west as radiance greets this dawn. I yawn. I’m gone. Jamaican way, soon come. Be one happy man as cares drop with the weight of gravity. Bounding, leaping onward my silver tube resting on winds of lift, wielded by pilots deft and hopefully not inebriated.
Swift goodbyes to those with still closed eyes, case and hat in hand to flee this urban land. My city dark, the best sleep most enjoy, fled me assiduously as my mind would not let go of anticipation. A quick jog down concourse, a coin gets tossed, irradiate me oh gallant defenders of home or pat, pat, pat me baby. Good! Blue hands lose.
First light cracks through my airship windowpane prancing across my novel page. Sunrise. Ball of fire whence will your daily journey end? I wait your sinking into sea of glass. Will you live up to all those captured shots of west Jamaican splendor? Soon see. Soon come.
A leap from plane to plane, Atlanta overcame, now on again seeking blue. Neck craned to glimpse first gulf then sea. Ah, things most better now that land is cast aside and blue expanse cradles me above and below. A snooze, a nap, oh damn I’ve dropped my hat. Book has also slid from lap.
Descending now, oh joy, Mobay a jewel below me shines. I look and lean to drink it in as best one can. Yes, blue, Caribbean blue is calling, drawing, pulling me down to the gentle breezes and people that await me.
Is there any place better that I could get? I’ll tell you friends after sun has set.
