The sound of the plane engine in the background and the soft noises around me make my reading redundant as my eyes grow heavy and I fall asleep.
The lady’s gentle touch on my arm wakes me and she informs me we’re about to land in Singapore. I thank her and look around taking in the commotion on the plane. It’s busier than the Vic Market in Melbourne. Honestly!
Anyway, I grab Grandma’s book and curse that I wasn’t careful enough and it slipped on the floor when I’d fallen asleep. But a good check-up tells me it’s still in good order. I carefully pack it in my bag and follow the flight assistant’s instructions. My ears give me a hint they don’t like it and the momentary discomfort distracts me from the bumpy landing and the nauseous feeling creeping up in my stomach.
“Honey, are you right?” the lady asks me.
I nod. “All good. Just not made for flying,” I joke. The next thirty minutes are like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. It’s probably similar to a herd of cows moved from one paddock to the other. People are clutching to their belongings and pushing towards the door. I feel like telling them that there’s no fire or the last one doesn’t have to clean up, but I remain silent and seated. They’re probably all as tired and exhausted as I am. The sleep was too short and I just can’t shake off the lethargy out of my limbs.
