Floating

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Flying back to LA.

Cruising at 35,000 ft, we saw the sunrise before anyone else.

The pilot banked right and the wing outside my window dipped dramatically into the clouds below.

Blindingly bright, white, pillow-y clouds as far as the eyes could see. Every detail cast deep shadows into the layers.

Every dance this weekend was beautiful. I was floating, long before I got on the plane.

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