Dear October,
We’re always moving. From one step to the next, one side to the other, one corner of the world to another. As I sat waiting for my flight to land this evening, it struck me how a single journey can contain a multitude of meanings.
The young woman sitting beside me, who spoke with an English twang, took her glasses off and hid her face as the plane descended. The relief of homecoming was hidden by what appeared to be a curtain of dread as the plane landed with a thud.
A row ahead, an elderly lady turned off flight mode on her phone. Closing a game of Candy Crush Saga, she slowly typed out a message in another language. Having left home, maybe reassuring someone of her safe arrival.