Tin Can Compression
Rattling in the oppressive tin can, with
recycled, filtered oxygen; the tin can
lifts
into the air -
My wife Jessica is busy taking pictures
out of the window of the plane. She hates to fly, so finds something to
occupy the time; she snaps digital pictures of the airplanes wing.
Fear
and a baby cries, an old man coughs into his handkerchief, and I sit there
asking myself,
“How long is the flight?
Next stop Dallas, let me look at the
Dallas airport in American Way Magazine.
“Hmm Dallas looks like an easy to manage
airport!?”
My wife continues to snap pictures
of the wing of the American Airline’s plane.
“What if she takes a picture of a Gremlin… or
a goose?
What
if that Goose or Gremlin intends to take down this plane?
Are
there even geese in San Francisco? I am
just meat on a cargo plane.
I wish I could open a window...but the crack in
the window would be more stifling than sitting here cramped in my seat.”
A man in the seat ahead of mine leans
back!
Captain Mitch announces on the intercom, “We
have reached our cruising altitude…” The
fasten seat belt sign becomes unlit.
Jessica asks, “Do you want to see the
pictures I took?”
I snap, “No! I mean, Yes dear, but let’s wait till we are
sitting safely on the ground. I am afraid that one of your pictures may
have a gremlin or a goose on it!”
No comments:
Post a Comment