When the airplane crashed in the meadow, I was on a walk to look for birds. My torso a crosshatch of straps: binoculars, camera, sling with water and treats for my dog, the... read more
To compensate for the worst summer of my life, my mother sent me to Los Angeles with my older sister. We drove together and then I flew home alone.
I had forgotten to do... read more
About a month ago, I took a flight from Korea to San Francisco to start my exchange program in New Orleans. Since there was no direct flight to New Orleans, I decided to... read more
At 4 a.m. on December 31st, the airport was eerily quiet except for the occasional sound of luggage wheels clicking against the tile floor. I was dragging my suitcase through TSA when my... read more
Pilots are traditionally buried in their uniforms, cap in hands. This is something I learned preceding my step-grandfather's funeral. He had been a lifelong career pilot for United Airlines, something that was fated... read more
I wouldn’t have been in this situation had I not touched that guitar.
Earlier that day I had picked it up from this hidden repair shop off of Oak St. My boyfriend, Ty, bought... read more
It’s pinned to the plaster ceiling over my desk, which my wife doesn’t like so much, but I put it there so I could look up and always see it, a little model... read more
Whenever I fly from New York to Kansas or Cyprus, I know the planes will rise, large chunks of metal will move into the air, first on the ground, then in the sky.... read more
My first flight instructor was an asshole. His name was Boris, which should tell you enough. His one redeeming act, however, was when he showed me 10,000 feet in a Cessna. The poor... read more
We are flying north, near six o’clock. I’ve got a window seat behind the angled wing. On the open fold table is my tiny cold press notebook the size of a small shower... read more
