Inside this massive vessel that I still could not identify, I was sitting beside my mother in a small room with a narrow window overlooking the huge frame of the craft as it slowly rose from the ground.
The deep roaring coming from below shook the walls, a heavy noise that sounded like the growl of an autumn giant when it is angry or hungry. Even so, I kept my face pressed to the window, watching the ground fade away beneath us.
I glanced at the nearby bed. My mother was lying there, finally in a deep sleep for the first time in days. I had seen how exhausted she was throughout the trip. She would doze off for five minutes only to wake up with heavy, frightened eyes, as if her mind refused to let her rest in case something else went wrong. Now, at last, her breathing had calmed, and her hands lay loosely on the blanket.
