Listening to a new album over the headset, up in the cool smooth air, passengers sleeping behind me.
Somewhere below trucks are drowning in mud, idiots shoot at women and children, while the ones who are hiding shiver with malaria.
Breanna’s voice comes smooth and sweet carried from a hundred miles away, taking the edge out of the HF STATIC.
She’s got my position.
Between heaven up here and a hell below I feel peace flood over.
Perhaps we really are an effective team. Perhaps we have so much more.