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The Long Flight There

My flight was delayed. First by bad weather in Chicago and then bad weather in Dallas. On the departure tarmac, we waited while the captain rebooted the system because the defroster wasn’t working. I know it sounds crazy, but inside I thought, its summer, do we really need a defroster? I was getting increasingly fidgety, opening and closing my book, “Scuse Me While I Kill This Guy.

The engine and the plane sat silent as we awaited the rebooting. Children’s voices peaked behind me, follwed by furtive sushing. I wanted to turn and tell the mother susher that kids were only expressing the fervent need of all of us to have action.

But then the engines started up and the captain came on to inform us that all was well.

In the air above Dallas, we began to circle around the clouds. While it was sunny up in the air, the low pressure storm system prevented us from landing. Farid, the flight attendant, and I got chummy. We discussed gadgets, the iPhone in particular. He also told me about the poor property values in Arlington

Turbulence began to rock the plane and the beverage cart dislodged from its confinement, stopped by the wall opposite. Well, we were going down and that was all that I cared about. After a long wait, you begin to damn the safety precautions in favor of just getting out of the air. I began fantisizing about crash landings.

The clouds at the higher alittude are so beautul. Light, fluffy cotton balls with tunnels of air. There is an irresistible urge to leap out and float. But the high white soft clouds are deceptive. They mark my undresired extended stay in the sky. As we descend, the clouds get more menacing. They are whispy edged with small puffs breaking off. The air is denser, the sky dark. Flashes of lightning spark,brightening the sky. But for each dark cloud that we pass it means we are closer to landing and finally, we break through the white to see night falling, blanketing the land. There is some kind of wonderful sense of discovery when you see the roadways bisecting the green and the twinkling lights of the city. It’s like a fairyland, with its clusters of lights and the glimpses of brightness amongst the coves of trees. Its intriguing, beckoning me to enter and partake. Ah, Dallas, I have arrived.

Jane Litte is the founder of Dear Author, a lawyer, and a lover of pencil skirts. She self publishes NA and contemporaries (and publishes with Berkley and Montlake) and spends her downtime reading romances and writing about them. Her TBR pile is much larger than the one shown in the picture and not as pretty. You can reach Jane by email at jane @ dearauthor dot com

One Comment

  1. sherry thomas
    Jul 15, 2007 @ 22:12:34

    I’ve heard it said that this has been the worst summer on record for air travel. Am ever so grateful that it was just a 3.5-hour drive for me.

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