(Random essay)
Flying high in the sky — there is no faster way to conquer the world; to experience the hustle and bustle of far away places.
But when up in the sky, it all does not matter. High above and far removed from the world below — up in a sealed, tiny vessel — a colorful mix of strangers travel peacefully and quietly to their shared destination.
Trapped in the belly of a steel machine — at the mercy of elements beyond their control — an unspoken tolerance for race and religion comes about. It makes for wishful thinking that this tolerance could be brought down to the world below.
But the peace among the passengers is only temporary. The necessity to respect each other on their shared journey fades away as soon as the plane sets down on the ground. Everyone rushes up, hitting each other with their luggage, pushing and pulling, trying to be the first to leave this little, peaceful steel universe behind.
Peter's up, out and about 