The Weight of Air
Nov 4 · 1 min read
I try to take a deep breath.
However, I am out of breath on account of the weight of the air.
My flight just landed at the Schiphol Airport, the Netherlands.
The flight attendants open the hatch doors.
The warm air from Taipei, once filled the cabin, fled in disarray.
April.
Temperature: 13℃.
Humidity: 78%.
In the inbound aisle the orange banners shout to me: Welkom Thuis.
Ignoring their voices, I quickly pass by the corridor ponderously with the homesickness in my luggage.

