Turbulence.
My knuckles tore at the
canvas of the airplane’s seat’s arms as my son watched a documentary on great white sharks. His eyes glowed with joy
at surfboards with horror-movie bloodstains, defenseless tuna, and
seals bitten in half by these beautiful monsters.
More turbulence.
As we landed in Boston, my
hands relaxed. He turned his TV
off. I asked, “What did you think?”
(meaning the 7 days in Florida). He
said, “I like the one that flies” (meaning the South African great white shark
who kills as it soars through the air, like a plane in a windless cloud).
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