3/31/05 Flt EWR->SFO->NRT
my reflection likes to travel. when i see him in the lavatory mirror, his face is always perfect, sexy. My reflection's face especially likes to fly; even the bloodshot sclera are becoming. Perhaps it is the lack of oxygen, i think, because i've also noticed that he seems rather vital when he's been drinking, too. then he smirks at me and often strikes playful poses, turns up his collar, wears brightly colored shirts pulled from some hidden cache at the back of the closet.
back in seat 31F, i raise the shade halfway. looking down on the brown squares of nebraska, i heave a sigh for my reflection. some feeling, deep, wistful, makes me wonder is he okay?
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