...again, in-between a Korean grandma and a chubby Amerasian girl, with their bags, stuff toy and a banana, I was assigned to seat E33. I am heading home, tired, exhausted, forced to plug into the plane's in-house music (a less annoying option than do a marathon of the cheesy movie selection), for lack of better things to do.
- It has been a good two-months since I first found myself in this same predicament.
- In-between two strangers, co-passengers, an old, congenial lady and a taba, sleepy neneng.
- Flight attendants with their rehearsed and measured niceties.
- Two months ago I was in the same position. But coming home was not quite the same.
- Laden not so much with excess baggage from too much buying of useless trash, but rather with an overflow of happy memories: of newly forged friendships, or the strengthening of old ones; learnings and un-learnings; new things and sights; delights and mishaps...
- I left two months ago with a heart swollen with uncertainties. I am coming home replenished and renewed.
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