Monday, Monday. From where I am sitting, Monday looks like it’s going to be a day of hope. You will buy your morning coffee (or decaffeinated tea), hopefully; you will cross he street, glad of a respite in the traffic; you will catch your scarf (or hanky) as it drifts away on an upwind, buoyed up by the possibility of altitude. If you can, follow it, if not with your feet, then with your mind. See the World as it unfurls below you, the massive buildings of your life, the street where you work, the fellow who doesn’t say good-morning to you no matter how many times you nod in his direction, all fade away into tiny, winding dots and lines, snaking flourishes of distant light refracting light. The caress of a cloud dampening your cheek. The wing thrum of a large, ponderous bird whilst you glide serenely past. As you drift further and further away, towards the glowing rim of atmosphere that demarcates this small planet from the rest of the Universe, spare a moment for us below. The distance will amplify your thought into a thousand blessings. We will not know whence our good fortune, but our gratitude will give your feet the wings they need to climb even further, towards your other stars.