The clouds stretch out into the distance like a flat white desert. There are divots and dry creek beds and places where a meteor has fallen from space and punched a hole in the desert floor. I say it is like a desert but really it is otherworldly, like the surface of another planet. Or just clouds. I feel that if I stare hard enough at the horizon I can see the earth curve. My thinking is interrupted by lightly salted peanuts, mini pretzels, and Biscoff cookies. I study the Biscoff packet to determine its country of origin. Found it: Belgium. Staring out the window I think about how I am in a metal cylinder with wings speeding across the continent, above the clouds, which look like their own planet but are just an ethereal sheet floating above the earth, which itself was created by a random combination of elements that got stuck together and spun and twirled for a period of time so mind numbingly long that they turned into everything we see in the world and everyone in it. All the trees, all the oceans, all the animals, all the people and everything they created, which they say will soon include artificial intelligence with the ability to take over the world and dominate human beings the way that human beings have come to dominate and fuck over the world that created us.