It was vast, black, red, hazy orange, dark grey and with a million specs of light scattered all over the place. It looked like one of those pictures of the solar system you see in primary school that makes you feel small and insignificant. Were my future friends down there? I wondered who they might be and what they might be like. Was my new house somewhere there in the black abyss? I wondered if it would be safe and if I would be allowed to hang posters on the wall. I returned back to my seat and buckled up; I had seen Mexico for the first time by pure accident and it was incredible. Perhaps everytime I am waiting for the toilet and happen to gaze out of the window I will be as pleasantly suprised. We approached the runway. Trays and windows up. Wheels out. Touch down. Mexico.
Published by escapedfromyorkshire
Girl. 26. Full-time polyglot and part-time notebook scribbler from a gusty and gloomy grotto in Yorkshire. Baptized in the murky waters of the River Calder, I attended a private school run by lions who taught me how to read and roar. After graduating with a combined honours in Lying and Being Late to Everything, I upped and left said gloomy grotto for the tropical jaunts of Latin America in the name of academia and adventure. Currently studying a masters degree in Dog Cuddling and Taking Too Many Ubers. View all posts by escapedfromyorkshire