Transatlantic Flight by Odd Beholder

Imagine you’re on a plane. It’s very still. Everyone is wide awake. Nobody speaks. Nobody moves. A stewardess is walking by. Oh, the luxury of drinking a cup of coffee in midair. The air plane hovers over a sour sea. The screen reflects your pale face as it reads “Thank you for flying Unf Air.” It crosses your mind that nature had been great, and nature will be great again, but you won’t be around to write poems about it. It’s time to go and you just wish you had the change to go better. Are these still clouds ore is it smoke already? You brace yourself for impact.