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All the cool kids are bored of flying.
They give their spouse a chaste hug and a quick kiss when they say goodbye, but that is the last emotion they show.
They stand in line at security, staring stonily ahead with their blank faces. They strip off their belts, and put their keys and phone in the plastic container without a word. They do this every day. It's routine, it's old news, it's nothing to get worked up over.
They sit quietly at their gate, sometimes with a coffee, sometimes with a book, but they never make eye contact with their fellow travellers. They smile patiently at the child next to them who got bored and is pointing at strangers, babbling to his bored parents.
They stand in line to board the plane, rolling their eyes at the stranger in front of them, digging through her purse for her boarding pass and ID.
They rush to shove their carry-on into the overhead compartment, and slide into their seat without saying a word to the person beside them. The person with a lifetime of stories, and experience to share, which goes unsaid for the entire five hour flight. Infinite possibilities dissapearing so they can maintain their aura of bored.
They don't acknowledge the force pushing them back into their seats as the jet engines roar, accellerating them down the runway. They ignore the leap in their stomach as the aircraft rotates and wheels gently leave the runway. They glance out the tiny window at the shrinking city below them with bored eyes as they idly put a stick of gum in their mouth.
They mumble "water please" when the drink cart reaches their seat, then they watch a movie on the tiny screen on the back of the seat in front of them.
When they finally land, they rush to stand up, rolling their eyes again at the people between them and the door. They debark the aircraft with a nod to the pilot, not saying a word.
All the cool kids are bored of flying.
