small plane

March 13, 2012 · 1 comment

It circled around in the blue sky above me, the white wings glistening in the spring sun. Low enough to see the red trim and identifying numbers, and just high enough to make the pilot and passenger, likely the instructor,  look like shapes instead of people.

I wondered for a moment whether it would feel scary or exhilarating if I were up there. I wondered, as it became a white and red speck in the pale blue sky if I would ever find out. I imagine the freedom is all consuming and extraordinary; I imagine the fear would keep me from finding out.
I hate to fly.
It’s funny the thoughts a little plane circling and a bright sunny day can put in ones head.

{ 1 comment… read it below or add one }

Momo Fali March 18, 2012 at 7:34 pm

I hate to fly too, but I always have dreams that I can flap my wings and climb really high.


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