\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1615385-Changing-Worlds
Item Icon
\"Reading Printer Friendly Page Tell A Friend
No ratings.
Rated: E · Short Story · Other · #1615385
Exploring the ways our lives can drastically change from one extreme to another,
I'm comfortable because this is how it's supposed to be.
The seat in front of me is far to close, my legs are already pinned when the lady in front
of me decides to take a nap pushing the seat farther back jamming my knee and I scream
out within myself.
I give a smile of dissatisfaction to the man sitting next to me when I pry my leg loose; I
keep quiet though not wanting to rant. He doesn't deserve that, he is only a stranger.
Truthfully he does have a bad temper and would most likely revel in my own admitted
disgust but that isn't a way to get to know someone.
My legs, yes still bothering me, it's probably the worst. The way I fold and shift them to
avoid the napping woman, leave them tense and strained. I always have the fleeting
thought wondering if I could get a blood clot being there so cramped like this. Thank
you to whichever news magazine show I witnessed this report on.
But enough with the leg cramps. They can be dealt with simply; it's a mind game. Even
though I'm tired and can't focus I must always attempt to read my book. A chapter or
two is good before I don't know what I'm reading. But when I stop I discover the cramp
in my neck from looking down at to steep an angle. Of course we all know I can't hold
the book further ahead of me because the lady in front of me is tired, she needed to lay
her seat back. A cramped situation becomes tighter. I feel like Indiana Jones.
I let the book go rather then trying to struggle with the sleepiness. Tomorrow I'll have to
reread what I don't remember. How did character X get from point A to point B?
Stiffly rotating my neck, half believing still that this will work out the kinks. Of course
now that my vision has returned level, my personal air conditioner blows accordingly
over the surface of my tired eyes. The sapping air makes them dry, more tired, but I'll
never fall asleep in here. So my mind wanders to the current culprit of discomfort. The
little air conditioner, it could never be adjusted to where the cool air keeps me from
boiling but not irritating my drying eyeballs. I think of all the people a couple of hours
ago trying to get them to work for twenty minutes before realizing it wasn't going to
happen. 'They don't work during taxi' I'd like to shout. When we take off they blast to
life full of jet streaming air from the fully turned nozzle. It leaves them uncomfortably
cold. It's a mad dash for adjustments.
I sigh. I resort to what this kind of element leaves you always resorting to. Thinking
about things. Nothing imparticular. The blue backdrop of a readless ocean is perfect for
the unthinking thoughts.
It's weird really, I'm not uncomfortable. Probably because I know this is how it's
supposed to be. Cramped neck and blood clotting legs. The woman ahead of me is
taking a nap against my sake even though she'll never fully fall asleep here. Trying to
ignore the angered stranger two inches beside me for five hours. Dry scratchy eyes from
a stop and go a/c and no Clear Eyes to get the red out.
I'm comfortable with all of it. Because it's how it's suppose to be.

The moment I become uncomfortable. You guessed it, when all of that is gone.
The pilot's overly calm voice is a bad sign. Worse are the suspended yellow cups with little baggies hanging out the back-end. Even though the bag does not inflate, oxygen is
flowing to the mask. Good thing I'm squeezed in as tight as possible now I won't have to
make any of the tucking procedures.
In the last moments the lights flicker more rapidly and the strangers scream more harshly.
The blue backdrop has become my cold icy world. Filling every fabric of the one that
was once there. The cramped comfortable world has broken away around me.
I wonder if the oxygen is still flowing to the mask as I futilely hold on to the air I had
consumed before the crash, before the water.

Seconds ago it was screams and flashing lights. Things have changed though as usual.
Now I'm in silent darkness. I escaped the comfortable cramped world and moved passed
the icy world of no air. The waves gently lull me nearly to sleep. I don't think the water
wants any survivors tonight. My last efforts to get passed it brought me here to the top.
Now it tries to put me in a fatal rest.

My eyes hurt; I wonder if the bright light cutting through the darkness is godsend or
hellsend. No matter, the pain is bearable since they are bringing me aboard a more
comfortably cramped world of a sea fairing vessel.

I will live for another day. But my world has changed.
© Copyright 2009 JMBarker (jmbarker5 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1615385-Changing-Worlds