Posted Wednesday June23
Trussed into tiny spaces, we sit shoulder to shoulder in the cramped cabin. The crew impassively perform their emergency ritual, arms flailing hither and thither.
The mighty engines roar. I am pressed against my seat as the giant silver bird thunders and shudders down the runway, then quiet calm as we climb skyward leaving my stomach below.
Steeply banking, the plane stands on a wingtip. I stare down at a monopoly of shrinking streets below. Higher and higher we soar. Wisps of clouds rush by my window then shafts of brilliant sunlight illuminate the cabin.
‘A gin and tonic please’
Written for Friday Fictioneers where our host is Rochelle and the photo prompt is supplied by Rich Voza
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A very atmospheric description - well done!
ReplyDelete—Charles
The logic of that gin and tonic brings this back to realism again... somehow landing airborne.
ReplyDeleteI just love the feeling at take-off, love it!
ReplyDeleteBeautifully descriptive, Keith - loved it.
ReplyDeleteSusan at
Travel, Fiction and Photos
Such perfect descriptions I thought I heard the engines roar.
ReplyDeleteYou capture the feeling of take-off superbly. I sense he loves it.
ReplyDeleteDear Keith,
ReplyDeleteI love take off. Nice depiction.
Shalom,
Rochelle
Evocative description of a moment in a life. Thanks for sharing this.
ReplyDeleteAnne from AnneHiga.com
Great descriptions! I hate flying. Gin and tonic (and diazepam) is the only way I can do it!
ReplyDeleteI would love to have a private jet. ~sigh~ One can dream. I think I will go get a cocktail, at least.
ReplyDelete