Best Books For Long Flights Novels & Stories

{~~Avery Sterling~~} The flight wasn’t bad at all, a smooth ride that gave me plenty of time to think and prepare for the days ahead. I spent most of the flight reading, trying to immerse myself in a book to keep my mind from wandering too far into worry. Every now and then, I’d glance out the window, watching the clouds shift and the landscape beneath me change from small dots of houses to vast stretches of wilderness. It was strange, being so far from home, but I knew this trip was important.

It was a short two-hour flight and Jon felt comfortable in his first-class seat. He turned on the in-seat massager and tried to relax. Immediately, he felt the gentle movements of the massager loosen the tense muscles of his back. He then flipped the pages of the inflight magazine and started reading about new destinations available to the airline. When nothing took his interest, he replaced the magazine in the seat pocket and tried to take a nap.

Surviving this trip with my mind intact would be a hell of an achievement. I let out a breathe and settle in. Forcing myself to zero him out. It works a lot better because he sits quietly. My eyes fall on the book he's pulled out. “Seriously? This is your choice to read on a flight?” He frowns at me and tries to swat the book dangling between my fingertips. “Its a really good book.” “If you're in the 19th century. “The Prince”, really? What next, stock prices? A map?”

"We've spent three years carefully not talking to each other. And even before then, we were formal with each other. Now we're here having dinner. So tell me something I don't know." He was quiet for a moment, as if he didn't expect the question, and was now taking time to find an answer. "I hate flying." "What?" My brows cocked. I must admit, that was the most random, yet unexpected response "Flying. I hate it. Always have. But I do it constantly for work so I've just learned to manage it." "How do you manage it?" "Medication. Noise-canceling headphones. And I read the same book every time I fly."

Ernest had understood this in the way he understood all of Don's readiness declarations: as accurate, not as performance. The plane was a Boeing 787, the modern kind with the large windows that dimmed rather than shuttered, the cabin pressure set to a lower altitude than older planes, the humidity slightly higher. Ernest had chosen the airline deliberately — the one that flew direct from London to Osaka with the best on-time record and the most space in economy because they had decided, after the Mexico City trip, that the discomfort of long-haul economy was its own form of preparation. Not the comfort that insulated you from the journey. The discomfort that reminded you that you were crossi

I think by the time this is all over I won't ever want to get on a plane again. After an hour they finally let us know that they are about to take off and for us to take our seats and fasten our seatbelts. I quickly send Asher a message to let him know there was a delay and that we are about to just set off. I spend the next couple of hours reading my book, happy that I finally get to have some time to do one of the things I love the most. I miss some of my favourite books from home. I had quite a big collection. Like I said I don't have many friends and the ones I do I was never close to, so I pretty much stayed at home by myself. So reading was one of the ways I got to escape and live an a