September 30, 2012

• She was fair skinned, so responsive, and of beautiful physique. But we could only be friends. She went with a grace that seemed to float. But with one wrong move or gesture she could turn on me and insist that things weren’t right. If left alone she could right herself but she would first seem to smirk and wait for my clumsy finesse.      We would meet mostly on weekends and we would travel to where ever a tank of gas would get us in a day’s daylight. On most days it seemed we thought and acted as one but on a few the turbulence felt unnerving. But she had no fear and relied on me. She would insist that I make the decision to keep going or to turn back and abandon our plans.       She was very outgoing and became well liked where ever we traveled. When we arrived and were recognized, I was so proud to be with her. But I knew what would come. She flaunted herself and teased her admirers into touching her smooth skin as I stood with my “please do not touch” look on my face. If they only knew of the danger and destruction she was capable of they would not approach. I sometimes was jealous only of their gaze.      When we would depart, my spirits would lift and I would realize why I did this. For at these times we were alone and in the clouds as one. We were not anxious to return home.      When we would get back to the hangar there was a letdown of sorts. She would be sitting quietly there, our journey complete, cockpit left with only the slight smell of av-gas, oil, cooling exhausts and yes, the scent of sweat, which some would call fear. I would walk away but only a few steps then pause… and look back. Seeing her sitting in the dark, by herself and so inanimate, made it very hard to close the hangar doors and leave her there alone. Such is the life of John

  • 7:00 am
  • 9 Comments