We plod silently towards the vessel waiting on the tarmac. Dawn's cool hand lifts a strand of hair from my face as I turn toward the horizon. Sun gazes over the mountain range, wishing us a safe journey. Helmeted hosts usher us aboard with a slow waving arms.
Eyes rise to gloved hands, shimmering in the new light as we duck into the cabin. We sit together arranged by blood. A fountain of Tears flood the rotunda amid the cushioned seats trickling down the aisles. Seeping into our shoes, our souls. Generations of disregard churn the outside air kicking up dust as the vessel ascends. Glasses raised, we toast this latest venture.
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