Chantel Kemp

The Traveler's Magic

Sixteen hours, three layovers, and endless snoring from the man sleeping next to me has me cranky. Everyone glorifies living in NYC but they never talked about the flight back to Africa. I can hear the stewardess walking down the aisle and gently nudging folks to buckle their seat belts. I open the shade covering the airplane window and gasp. Kenya has probably never looked more beautiful than it looks right now. My seatmate grumbles about a stupid light and, I quickly close the shade. “Sorry, not a morning person, I see” I whisper under my breath.