Tuesday, January 13, 2015

3:03 AM, Wednesday...?

The nighttime air poured into the cabin from the jet-way like a warm, damp syrup; you felt it a dozen rows from the exits.

It was a balm after so many hours of breathing cold stale desiccated cabin air, and there was a tangible pleasure when inhaling. The fresh nighttime air smelled of salt and an undefinable sweetness borne on the breeze. Things blossom somewhere nearby, tropical things, things unfamiliar to me, but in the harsh light of the night they are invisible. On its own, the air simply smells good.

There is a garden on the rooftop, and there are small fragrant things blossoming there among the tall bamboos swaying in the night city air. Low clouds scud past, illuminated from below by the city's lights; they mask the few stars visible from here in their passing. I don't even know where to begin looking for any familiar constellations, and even the setting moon looked unfamiliar in its aspect from this vantage point so near the equator.

But even here, right in the heart of the city, the air smells good. It is rich and warm, coming off the water in the near distance. Time to try and sleep, for today is another day.

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