Not for the cramped seats or the overpriced coffee - but for that exact second the plane takes-off, when she feels again butterflies in her stomach. It’s funny how a purely physical event can pull back into old emotional linkages. She almost misses that version - the unbuckled ones, set loose by crushes and stolen glances across the room.
There's this slight regret, that now the butterflies mostly belong to this mechanical lift into the sky. And yet, they remind her she is still alive enough to lift.
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