in the clouds

The softness of the endless, billowing clouds and sky from the window seat. It perfectly juxtaposes the dry air and dramatic irony that has settled into our row of seats.

I could almost laugh.

I have my headphones on, pretending to be preoccupied with music and noise even when nothing is playing from them. I don't want to use much of my energy entertaining him during his final hours of foul freedom. I will put my all into that last, victorious, mocking glance and goodbye, as he steps off the plane, sent to rot.

For now I'll put on a playlist that makes me feel bold, and press myself against the wall of the plane so our shoulders can't touch.