Friday August 26: 7:00 am
Cheonan

It’s a bright, shiny morning the day of taking off. The pool of late summer rainy season runs dry as the sky paints pale blue round clouds regularly wide open grey. Cab back to shuttle bus and airport check-in, the last site of Incheon out of an Aeroflot flight bound for Moscow. Leave stamped immigration card in official clutch. Planes taking off.

The Russian tin roofs shine in the hot sun like so many sequins sewn on a bodice. 5:00 pm local time, 10:00 pm at the last locale, 9:00 am at home. Thirty-five days to get the six hour refund, wait it out with so much stolen leisure.

The monitor is hazy white, puffy clouds forecasting where the world will sink itself in, swirls of dark blue shadows sliding by like ink splotches on The Comedian’s mask. The Watchmen can’t save us from this plane crash, won’t save us from this war.

Good night, good afternoon, good morning. God bless.