actuality.log


Friday, January the 26th, 2007

It’s probably one of those things you fantasise about your entire life—getting to sit up close to the one captivating woman you’ve not been able to take your eyes off since you’ve gotten past security and reached your gate. More often than not (every single time?), these sorts of hopes spawn and fade nearly instantaneously, but this time things are different.

An eleven-and-a-half hour long flight passes like it’s nothing at all. You’re paying tribute to and wishing the best for the ticketing agents and their families.

Only the next morning do you wake in horror and realise you’ve parted without scribbling down a means to keep in touch.

This is a printer-friendly version of the journal entry “Flights of fancy” from actuality.log. Visit http://emphaticallystatic.org/earlier/flights-of-fancy/ to read the original entry and follow any responses to it.

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