There is an odd relief in being alone. I glance around at people clinging to their companions, their relatives, crying, screaming, holding on tight. I grip the seat arms and tell myself, here it comes. There is no flashing of life before the eyes. No final reckoning takes place, no onslaughts of wisdom, no last-minute wishes or requests or prayers. I don’t think about all the other times I have managed to hoodwink this moment, slip from its grasp. I am suffused, preoccupied, distracted by the physical, the deafening noise of the aircraft, of people’s panic, the assaulting drag of the fall, the
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