Prologue Part Deux - The Flights

“I looked down, down, down, and down some more,
I looked and saw clouds that sat like ice floats on the ocean,”

Prologue-
After a bit of looking, I found my seat on the plane. The Irish don’t mark their seat numbers as readily as American airlines do, so it was a small chore in basic arithmetic to figure out where I was actually supposed to go. My two “single serving friends” were an older white family with an accent I could not quite place.
With age, and probably language against me, I chose to take the opportunity to instead attempt to sleep after three delays that had kept me from the Emerald Isle. Ironically, this was the one flight where I was not the annoying flyer who talks to everyone, but instead the annoyed who can’t get any sleep on the plane.
“Where. Are. You. Travelling? From?” said the old woman.

“Uh, I’m from the US.”
“Hah. Hah. Hah. Americans”
I narrowed my eyes. How insulting. I guess half of what they say about peoples’ opinions of us is true, “And where are you all from?”
“South. Africa.”

I chose the route of the higher man, though I really wish I hadn’t. “Oh,” I replied uninterested. And that concluded quickly our conversation on the plane.