Cruising Altitude

Ever since he was a kid he had the dream. Of soaring through the clouds. Rocketing towards the heavens. Feeling the wind against his face, pushing back the hair from his eyes. He'd feel at home. Weightless. Free from gravity's constraints. Dancing alongside the flocks of birds - aerial partners amongst towers of fluff.

He used to fall asleep every night, the thoughts filling his head. How he could make it a reality. He remembered waking in the morning, memories of the prior night flooding his mind - of being a pilot, sitting in front of a vast array of knobs and switches. Staring down the runway. Eager to throttle forward and take to the sky. There were times that he was an astronaut. Strapped to his seat. Peering through his visor out the tiny window in front of him - straight up to where he was headed. Past the clouds and the Earth's grasp. Into the stratosphere. On rare occasions he would be caught by surprise. He'd find himself under the big top, before a crowd of hundreds, dressed in a bright leotard. Before he knew it, he'd be climbing into a cannon. Shimmying down, feeling the cold steel against his exposed skin, smelling the faintness of the gunpowder as it found its way into his nose. He wasn't nervous. Once his feet hit the bottom, he knew it would only be ten seconds. He'd count down slowly, until it was over in a puff a smoke - flying through the air, large net quickly approaching. The audiences' faces were the best part of the dream. The shock on the mothers, how unimpressed the fathers were, but even more - the look of pure joy on the children's. There was nothing better.

When he woke up each morning, he'd open his eyes, hoping, wishing that he'd be amongst the clouds. Some days he'd fool himself by looking out the window first - only to be disappointed to feel the sheets still below his body. Luckily as the years passed, his passion didn't. He kept his dream of flying alive. Tucked away in his heart for the right moment.

And now as he looked out of his office, it no longer was a wish. It was a reality. No matter where he looked he was surrounded by thousands of clouds. An absolute sea of white that seemed to stretch on forever. He wondered what it was like below, on the surface. Families curled up, still in bed. Only the dedicated few had risen, gotten on the road, continuing to work. Just the thought of them made them seem so small. Not only because of how far they were below him - but because they couldn't fly.

On the horizon he could see the sun just beginning to peak out, greeting him with the new day.

Settling back into his seat, he flipped off the "seat belt" sign and began his speech" Welcome aboard ladies and gentlemen..."