Let me start out by saying that I was initially disappointed when I finished reading this one. I had hoped for more. What I was looking for, I'm not sure, I just knew I didn't find it in these pages. I finished the book, went to sleep, and fully intended to put it in my going away pile in the morning. The more I thought about it, however, the more I came to appreciate it. It's a short story about a boy's flight on the one way night coach. The thing is, my first flight was also on a little prop plane, and this book reminded me of that flight. It reminded me of the way that airports used to be - so full of excitement and wonder, and the true joy I used to get from flying. It's all there, in those pages, waiting for you to find it, if you only let it percolate for a bit. This is one of those stories that grows on you. It may not be one that a younger audience appreciates, hell, most of them don't remember a pre-9/11 airport, but for those who do? It's everything that flying once was.