Over

Clear air turbulence over the Sierra Nevada nearly overcomes the metallic bird three times. The cabin rattles with unvoiced thought: our children orphaned. Best to close the eyes and accept the plunge. Fear torques up. You won’t die with a loved one. Recall Bellini’s Norma—the soprano and the tenor jump into the pyre. Together. Only he doesn’t love her anymore. This shocking, unanticipated terror for which everyone paid, waited in snaking lines from check-in to security—subjected to three hours delay for a two hour flight—at the very least, for this sort of death, one needs the beloved.