As the plane dipped beneath the clouds the city came into view. His apartment was somewhere down there. So was his job, his phone bill, and his checking account. For the past 10 days it had all been stewing, 1,500 miles away, eagerly awaiting his return. Now it all sat just a few thousand feet below and a feeling of dread slithered through his tired body. He knew that tomorrow, when on the ground, in and amongst all the tiny day-to-day details that make up a life, it would all work itself out, that he'd find a way to keep his head above water and survive. But here, in 22F, it all hit him at once in an a seemingly insurmountable mound of mundane responsibility. It was all right there in the window. It was all too much.
His ears popped. It hurt.
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