Six Seconds

Liftoff is always three seconds too long. In that blink of time it takes to realize you're hurtling along in a tube of steel, aluminum and plastic, the inevitabilty of The Moment presents itself. This is a Moment of great unnatural properities. Soon this will be a either a giant, fiery, failed Experiment, or all rules will be broken. Soon, this feat of Man escaping Physics and Fear becomes a droning nothing. Just some time in a fairly uncomfortable waiting room chair.

Then the last three seconds arrives, and they last just as long as the first three. The cold, hard earth sneaks up, and the horizontal, downwards, upwards view (everything but foward) exacerbates the tension. But soon enough, back to our earthly business.

Until those three seconds arrive again.