Leaving Charlotte. On a plane. The rush of the engines at takeoff. The flight of the stomach as the plane becomes airborne. The jockeying for elbow space. The smell of strangers. The wide-hipped, high-heeled flight attendant brushing against my shoulder each time she passes. The arrogance of first class. The looking down at the little cars and patchwork farmland. The pillow clouds. The no sleeping or even relaxing. The sweat running down my back. The leap of faith in people…
