Northern Hemisphere Sky

I

As you draw back the curtain by the wing, a vast expanse of azure sky greets your eyes. The aircraft has ascended beyond the troposphere, entering the stratosphere. The continuous clouds resemble a carpet, covering this unique space where weather does not exist, only the alternation of day and night. Departing from Shanghai, this journey is bound for a new destination, still within the Northern Hemisphere.

Seated beside me are an elderly couple who arrived at their seats just ten minutes before the plane was due to take off, causing the other passengers to wait. From their black backpack, they retrieved a notebook and a well-used black ballpoint pen. I, too, took out my notebook and pen to jot down the general plan for this trip, noting which cities I would transit through and which hotels I would stay in. Although this information could be readily displayed on my phone, I prefer this simple and old-fashioned method of recording details I fear I might forget. (Though there aren't many details to record.)

I am on the cusp of turning thirty, working as a shop assistant at a bookstore in the city center, a position I have held for nearly three years. Before deciding to purchase this plane ticket, my life was remarkably stable. On weekends, when I wasn't working, I would take my camera and a book to a nearly abandoned park in the city's outskirts, spending three to four hours there. I would also prepare a simple midday meal in advance—a cup of black coffee brewed in the morning and kept warm in a thermos, along with bread or a pack of soda crackers. Recently, I've been reading books about cinema. Last Saturday, I came across an analysis of Tarkovsky's "Nostalgia" in one of these books, and after returning home, I watched the film in its entirety. I've stopped running for about three weeks now, as my weight has reached an unhealthy level. I believe this is due to insufficient daily caloric intake combined with the energy expenditure from my previous daily 10km jogs. My hands appear thin and somewhat frail. In this park, there is a small church. Unbeknownst to me, I've grown accustomed to attending the Sunday Mass held at 6:00 PM after these quiet hours of solitude. I am not a Christian, but I cherish this rare afternoon and evening of the weekend.

One thing to be grateful for is that during the drives to the park, I've rediscovered several songs I enjoy:

1. "So High So High" - Nanko Gushima

2. "Summer Night Wind" - Wu Bai & China Blue

3. "In the Morning" - David Tao

4. "Bonjour & Goodnight" - Lu1

5. "當一個人" - Dizkar

The decision to leave was made about a month ago. Life here had naturally reached a state of conclusion. My relationship with my girlfriend had ended over a year ago. After handling things left at work, I packed up and disposed of the furniture, items, and books in my rented apartment. I returned the cat, Neko, that friends had been fostering at my place for nearly a year. I also sold my Mini Cooper Countryman, which had been with me for four years, to a friend. All that remained with me was a well-worn suitcase and a black backpack.

And so, I boarded this flight, ready to embark on the next chapter of my journey.