For the passengers aboard flight BR 17, from Taipei to Tokyo, the sun would never rise Monday morning. That sounds so grim. Nobody died or anything like that. In fact, the flight was fairly smooth, and the number of crying infants was few enough that sleep was even possible. Not bad at all for a fourteen hour flight! Actually, it was fairly easy to sleep, because, although the porthole shade was open, it never got light. We left around one-thirty in the morning and chased the night clear around the world.
The sun has risen now, here in Taipei where I await my next ride through the skies, but it’s not Monday. Monday disappeared with the night. It’s Tuesday, March 17th, and through the window the fogs of Taipei have a greenish tint, making the airport look like part of some underwater city. Truly, I travel through foreign parts on my way to the land of the future.