It’s not that I’m afraid to fly, but I honestly didn’t feel safe in the Avro RJ85 that took me between Florence and Paris. It felt a bit like an economy car that was certainly efficient, but just wasn’t as sturdy. When we hit turbulence, it felt more like we were in a car racing over a speed bump. I dislike, however, thinking that my last moment on Earth could be while sitting on an airplane with a bunch of people I don’t even know. I probably wouldn’t think so much about my mortality if everyone would stop saying, “Have a safe flight.” I used to cringe at the words and once said, “Of course I will; I’m not flying the plane.” Even though my friends mean well, that seed of fear lingered in my head for an hour and a half (the length of my flight between Florence and Paris).