Flying high
It was a typical winter morning in London. One of those days when the rain remains unseen, yet it leaves your face wet and freezing, and the darkness doesn't seem to lift even when the clock says it's well into the morning. My flight was on the tarmac, ready to take off. The tarmac was glistening in the rain, separated only by a thin strip of grass from the undisturbed watery surface of a dock that is no longer in use and had been turned into just a beautification project for the luxury flats next to it. The wetness from the nonexistent rain on the tarmac began to glisten just a little bit more as the twilight of dawn persisted and made it almost indistinguishable from the dock, especially as the flight started to pick up speed. Then the flight took off. As the flight flew straight into the clouds at an angle more inclined than normal due to the utterly short runway that merges into the dock just seconds after the flight leaves the tarmac, the twilight stayed with us. As alway