Airplanes and Other Late Night Thoughts Written in the Middle of the Day

This is a short fictionalization of my first day on a service trip I went on April. They say write what you know, right? It seems that it is so short because it was quickly abandoned and forgotten about along with the other mementos of my Creative Writing folder. It's not much but I like some of the language used and this will do as a post until I get my thoughts in order about more important things.

Rush

She felt a breath hitch in the back of her throat and whether it was a conscious action or not, her fingers worked their way around the worn rubber of the armrest, clutching at it lightly. Flying was a love of hers but she never quite adjusted to that “wheels up” moment. In her head it amounted to her distaste for things like rollercoasters. She pointed her toes towards the fast escaping ground and silently thanked the airline gods for giving her the extra legroom the emergency exit row allowed for. Although in case of emergency, asking her to open a plane door was just as wise as proposing a children’s crusade. In both cases, things would end badly.

Beside her, Joshua, her brother two years junior mused over the tinny noise that was the airline’s signature take off music- a synthesized, vaguely metallic instrumental track of Adele’s “Set Fire to the Rain”. She wished the noise would stop-both Joshua and Adele. Anxiety burned at the edges of her mind, it seeped into the corners of her peripheral vision if she let silly things set her off. She had a week away from home away from her, she couldn’t break down now five minutes after lift off; she would never live this down.

Something Close to Morning/Mourning

Her name was Liv and her heart was broken. She knew it too. The weight of three algebra textbooks sat on her chest at all times these days. She tried to escape it by ducking under the water in the bath but the pressure hurt her ears. Everything hurt it seemed. She had run away from the turmoil of home where all of the pet toys were being systematically boxed up and disposed of.

It was midnight when she saw the city sky for the first time. It was at a distance, over the stretch of the freeway but the windows were down and she stretched her fingers out into the breeze as if the sound of life around her was something she could hold.

Their temporary home was a converted Lutheran church and school. There was a line across the door that showed where the floodwaters had reached. It was instantly clear that nothing had been unaffected. The concept of luck was weighed heavily. She quickly made her bed-an unsteady top bunk and lay there quietly, fully clothed. Signing a prayer to a higher being she did not believe in, Liv closed her eyes and waited for sleep to overtake her.