As we ascend through the clouds, our Boeing 757 becomes a giant raft, fighting its way through an ocean of endless class V white-water. As I look out my window, I am truly blinded by the light. I shift my attention back to my paper. Everything is dark.
             Now that the plane is a few hundred feet above the clouds, I am able to see clearly for miles and am reminded of Vail. The last morning, we woke in a glorious blizzard- every child's fantasy on Monday. Looking down upon the sea of clouds, I see what was below, above, and everywhere else on that Colorado morning. As I sit on flight 1214, I am on a chairlift to the best snowboarding of my life.
             As we sail through the heavens of Terra, I am a chess player, using the panhandle of Texas as my battleground. The small fluffs of water vapor now serve as my pieces. I am the white army and my shadows are the opponent. We are at the peak of battle, each knight, bishop, and pawn moments before judgement day.
             The war is over. No one is left standing. Small ponds serve well as soldiers left behind, most likely pawns. There is a mournful haze laying over the farms, ranches, and fields- moments previous collectively served as Zeus' chessboard, spanning millions of miles in every direction. After all, I am the newly appointed king of gods- Jonathan the Great- surveying my extensive domain from my chariot of aluminum and steel.
             Now, I take the role of Indiana, as I dangle meters above a pit of mississippian king cobras, slithering across the dark stone floor. The jagged meanders of the great river and every minion that feeds its glory are now the violent twists and turns of these vicious reptiles.
             I gaze through the oval window in the roaring dead silence of jet engines that are hurling me through the atmosphere at what seems to be a walking pace, but as we approach the landing strip, my driver develops a lead foot as houses and cars begin to pass by at light speed. The e
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