I squint harder at the orange glow above the horizon, amazed that it could possibly be sunrise at 7am in the morning. Sure enough, a moment later piercing hot orange shoots out, hitting my eye which shuts closed. Slowly opening it again, the sun rises quickly now, spreading across the curved edge of the earth as the plane climbs higher.
This is why I love flying. The new perspective on the world. The slight bend of the horizon proving that yes, the world is actually a sphere. Tiny dots of people, insignificant in the vast oceans of sea, trees and rolling land. A plane going so fast, yet barely moving. My own miniscule existence.
We’re not allowed to use our technology, so I avail myself of the on flight magazine. Recently these have been causing me grief, so full of advertisements for beautiful cars, gadgets that couldn’t possibly be necessary and articles about ‘successful’ people so satisfied with their business prowess. None of this resonates with me anymore.
Until I turn a page and there it is. The Australian Secret Intelligence Agency has taken out a full page ad, asking the question “Could you be a secret intelligence officer?”
Just the words ‘secret’ and ‘intelligence’ in the same sentence makes my heart quiver with excitement. Visions of me, looking surprisingly like Angelina Jolie, swim before my eyes, debonair in a ball gown, dancing, slipping poison in someone’s drink, running through the streets, shooting from behind the corner of a building. I know the reality is just an office of retarded people googling shit on the internet pretending like they know what’s going on but nevertheless, telling boys you work for the Secret Intelligence Agency has to be one up on any other girl in the room. Plus, it would finally acknowledge my superior intelligence, which I’ve long believed existed despite the fact that it has yet to prove itself in any worthwhile situation.
I add “Secret Intelligence Officer” to my list of possible career paths, along with Manager Extraordinaire, Travel Writer, Head of UNICEF, Late Discovered Supermodel, Wife of Famous Actor, Millionaire Entrepreneur and Self-sustaining Hippie. After saving the world from Satan, normal career options just seem a bit lackluster and making a decision about what to do with my new found freedom is turning out to be a bit difficult.
My new found freedom… I breathe it as I disembark, slinging my bag over my shoulder, the laptop under my arm, weaving my way out of the airport. Copying the guy in front of me I hop down the steps, bypassing the travelers with large wheelie bags on the escalator to get to the train station. It’s dark and cold, the tunnel stretching either way. For the most part, silence. I get some glances but no one really looks at me. I don’t know these people. I’m alone. No one knows exactly where I am right now but me. I could meet anyone. Go anywhere. Do anything.
I breathe in again. Separation, Agnosticism, Annihilation of everything I once was. Freedom.