Pervasive hum and whine and shifting attitudes. Electric motor sounds of wheels coming out and chatter in the background. Low light. A bit fuzzy in the distance with my reading glasses on. White and green fasten seat belt. Thin blue over the aisle.
Cabin crew “take your seats for landing”. Whir of flaps. And to left, my wife and son, milking to control the pressure and more attitude shift landing in bad weather. Grandmother waiting.
Last landing at the old terminal of my own youth. I’m bringing home my son.
