Getting to Miami

I was at Penn station about to catch the train to the airport, when Mrs. Potter's Lullaby by the Counting Crows started on my MP3 player. Remembering Milo's entry on the subject, I decided to listen attentively to the lyrics. Listening to a song in a station is an interesting experience. It sounded like:

"Well I woke up in mid-afternoon cos
That's when it all hurts the most

THE LOCAL 4.20 TRAIN TO TRENTON IS NOW BOARDING ON TRACK 11

If dreams are like movies, then
Memories are films about ghosts

ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS THE 4.22 EXPRESS TO BOSTON IS DELAYED TILL FURTHER NOTICE

If you've never stared off into the distance, then
Your life is a shame

LAST CALL FOR THE 4.20 LOCAL TO TRENTON ON TRACK 11. THIS TRAIN IS NOW READY TO DEPART.

Hey, Mrs. Potter don't - "

Shite! That last announcement was my train. Grab my bag, scramble down the escalators, hussle past the other travellers and hurl myself through the doors just as they slide shut behind me. Phew!

I finally get to the airport, only to be greeted by the PA system:
HEY YOU. THE ONE GOING TO MIAMI.

Me?

YES YOU. THE ONE TRYING TO ESCAPE THE NY FLOODS. YOUR FLIGHT'S DELAYED BY 4 HOURS. SO BUY SOME TRASH LITERATURE AND MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE.

Finally, finally, hours later, I'm on the plane. I hate flying in general, and I especially hate take-offs. Planes seem to take off so sharply, I always expect the tail to scrape against the ground. And ever since Seagull told me this is a fairly common problem with small two-seater planes, I've been expecting it to happen the boeings as well. So now I really hate take-offs.

And as if take-offs aren't bad enough by themselves, try taking off in the middle of a thunderstorm. I'm absolutely blue-faced terrified of flying through an electric storm, what with the lightning flashing outside. I always expect a stray bolt of lightning to strike the plane and turn it into a metal tube full of little cinders. So when I saw the telltale white flashes through the window, I let out an involuntary gasp.
"You okay, miss?" asked the kind passenger next to me.
"L-lightening!" I managed to blurt out in terror.
He peered out the window diligently. Peered back at me. "I do believe those are the winglights," he said.

Oh.