Meat on A Cargo Plane (Original Writing by Gregorio Roth)

Rattling in the oppressive tin can, with recycled, filtered oxygen; the tin can lifts into the air.   Apprehension air a baby cries, an old man coughs into his handkerchief, and I sit there thinking... "how much longer".    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.  Apprehension, things appear to quickly in this universe.  Fear and a baby cries, an old man coughs into his handkerchief, and I sit there asking myself,

“How long is the flight? Where is the first stop?-Dallas. “

Let me look at the Dallas airport in this complementary magazine.  

“Dallas looks like an easy to manage airport!?”   

 I can’t wait to get back to Florida or at least Texas so I can stretch my legs.   The seats are so jam packed in this plane.  (I guess they are looking to maximize profit margin.)  I think back to how difficult it was to get our baggage stored in the overhead compartment.   Even though I am so far away from my family and my origins I can reach out to old friends on viral machines and fuselages in orbit.   Why do we pack ourselves into a tin can and soar to other places?  Oh yeah for the love of family.  

My wife continues to snap pictures of the wing of the American Airline’s plane.   

I think to myself, “What if she takes a picture of a Gremlin, or a goose that is about to take down our plane. Are there even geese in San Francisco, I know there are seals, but geese... I am just meat on a cargo plane. I wish I could open a window...but the lack of oxygen created by the crack in the window would be more stifling than sitting here cramped in my seat.  I am going to die, I am going to die, damn not here, not now, later…I am  going to die on a tin can, packed like a sardine, bound to Dallas Texas! Man I have always hated Texas! ”  My fears  surround me, I feel more crammed as the man in the seat ahead of mine leans back!  The plane has flown to its cruising altitude. "I wish I could open a window."

Jessica asks, “Do you want to see the pictures I took?”    

I snap, “No!”

Correcting myself, “Yes dear, but lets wait till you are sitting safely on the ground.  I am afraid that one of your pictures may have a gremlin or a goose on it! What would we do then?"

Jessica grins and goes back to snapping pictures.

Olde Bull and Black Bear Partners

Why Black Bear hates Olde Bull!

Once upon a time... (as all good stories should start)... Old Bulle and Bear owned a field in common. The field was a small lot weeded out, plowed, and surrounded by a thick field of saw palmetto.

They met one night in the middle of the field, before planting season,  to come to terms with the use of the field.
The sky hung over their heads. The stars shined as if candles hung at church. The moon was full. And the field could be seen clearly by both Olde Bull and Bear.

They both drank Rye Whiskey and Black Berry Liquor, enough to make the world seem like it was about to tilt over and spill out all of contents .

Olde Bull finally spoke, "Well I dear say, if you like we can grow peas this year! And if you would also like I will take the top and you can take the bottom."

Bear thought the idea was splendid and said, "Why sure that is a grand idea!"

The days grew shorter and it was time to harvest.

Bear was not pleased because all he was left with was weedy stringy roots and plenty of dirt.  

But Olde Bull reminded Bear that they had previously agreed upon this; "and that well a contract is a contract -so all should be well- but since I am a generous Olde Bull and can see that you are not pleased this year why do we not grow sweet potatoes."

Bear loved sweet potatoes and his mouth began to water.

Olde Bull continued, "And since last year you took the bottom and I took the top, why not this year you take the top and I take the bottom."

Bear agreed.

The days grew shorter and it was time to harvest the small field.

They harvested.
Bull was very pleased by the crop, he held up his meaty sweet potatoes with glee, thinking to himself "these are blue ribbon sweet potatoes for sure."  Bear was not pleased.   All he was left with was stringy leaves.   Bear teared up in frustration, and swore he would never work with Olde Bull again.



Adopted and Retold by Gregorio Roth from the Scandanavian Folk and Fairy Tales edited by Claire Booss.  Attempting to get better as a story teller so I am working on retelling tales from a few collections of Folk and Fairy Tales.