There is a certain aloneness.

It is a late night flight and everyone around you is consumed in their own varying states of rest. Some are looking out of the window, some are working to pass the time, some are reading and most of them are sleeping.

You are alert. You feel no weariness. By now the ache should have seeped into your bones.

But it hasn't.

You are fidgeting between listening to your music and reading a over-and-read book. You are chewing gum and adjusting your scarf. You are so very restless.

By now the restlessness should have ebbed into the same old sadness. By now the weariness should have evolved into emptiness. By now your mind should have already begun stage one of its plunge to the usual hum of misery you have grown so used to.

Is it the music saving you? Is it the quotes of the book? But you know one thing for certain. This is not lasting the night.

The misery will come again - claiming all the flightless minutes it missed - with the vengeance of Zeus.

And you will be Thebes.