Like a mountain, a whale, a physical presence exuding peace and warmth in every way. Her chin dropped, even before takeoff, but she briefly awoke to make the sign of the cross as we shook into the skies. Her hands in prayer position she never even took off her coat and now, gently snoring, her mouth opens towards the world ahead of her.
We know nothing about the people we randomly encounter and still they are capable of speaking to our imagination just because we notice them. Her smile, displaying teeth that may have seen better days, held into place by probably what she was willing to afford, was friendly but unengaged as she took her seat next to me. A nun, dressed in blue, whose sleep is deep as she sits there, bundled into a mid seat in perfect tensegrity as if she’s used to travelling this way. I wonder if she is dreaming and I wonder if her dreams take her to places that she has denied herself in her choice to become a nun. Or does she dream of banquets and meals to indulge in, feeding her soft flesh and, no doubt, kind heart?
I am suddenly terribly homesick and not at all interested in my unknown travelling companion anymore. I wish her well and sweet dreams and return to my paper cup with a slightly sinking feeling. But then I’ve always been a lot better at arriving than I have been at departing.
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