A burning city.
Grids of light overlay the surface of the window as I fly over eastern Europe.
My destination; home. My departure; home. My family here. My family there.
Horizon spinning endlessly.
In the distance; the groove of the globe.
Curving down and up as I fly over the pacific.
My destination; homeless. My departure; homeless.
Here I alone. There, I alone.
Hey kids, lets master the art of flight.
And live our 21st century nomadic lives.