Pretending

So I prepare to leave. I left. Good bye. The airliner hits the confluent currents just over 31,000 feet. We drop instantly 2,000 feet. The sop behind me figured he did not need that seat belt while seated and was instantly smashed into the overhead storage bin. The snapping of his neck and the simultaneous crushing of his nose into his eye sockets exploded a noise I hope to never hear again. I am just glad he had no chance to make any human sounds of agony. The starboard engine raced then went silent and immediately after the jolt of the plane catching its wings horizontally the several pukers began their chores. Just then the port engine went silent and the angle of our adventure began to descend nose first. I thought briefly in my usual sardonic manner ... lets see them serve those little snacks now... and ...guess there is nothing like being the movie instead of seeing it... the plane was now almost vertical and the g forces were uncomfortable to say the least. I had heard that to get the engines started again that the pilots would have to take a nose dive to do so. I hoped that was what was going on. I began to wonder what the impact will be like when we hit the ocean at this rate. I thought of the movie Castaway. No doubt that was just a movie. I thought about all the dweebs back at the corporate office. Living their safe little lives. Pretending all was well. Faking happiness as they survived one form or another of their self inspired morbidity. I felt a momentary halcyon state from within. Too bad it could not stay forever. We should be gone anytime as seconds sustained themselves across that suspension of time that turns the speed of light into a tortoise pace of slow motion. I thought of Trolly. I know I will miss her. She always provided me a repose of that one who always insisted on getting what one wants through erratic means. She reminded me of myself. In that regard I think we were alike. Both wanting that elusive steady constant that was ever absent within. But what can you do? So it is. The sound of an engine can faintly be heard. I muster every ounce of strength to turn my head towards a window to see whatever I can. Fuck! I swear I see the silhouetted gray gloved hand. Ha! I shout. Where is your controlling light switch now asshole!

CLICK

That bitch! Scrambling wench! I feel as though I am infected with tourettes. Ham fucking biscuits do not exist in a free market enterprise dip shit! Bring it on you dilapidated anchor of excuses! Capital in excess of preferred share warrants can only lead to short term debt embedded in quality circles you corporate dick! Get out of my office! Trolly call the attorneys and get me a double shot of espresso. Private placements have multiple meanings. Tomatoes are going to hit seven dollars a pound which will drive up the cost of precious metals and the increased demand for epoxy and other products such as fiberglass. Twit!

CLICK

What determines when the light switch is turned on or off I thought to myself. The sound of another engine coming to life roared in my ears. To be honest the sound of the engines now were quite compared to their brief absence. I felt the nose of the vessel start towards a horizontal rise. A calm seemed to wash away the intensity of it all. I looked forward for any sign of Trolly. Then wondered if any external damage existed to the plane as it came to a normal position passengers are accustomed too. I look out the window and see Saipan. No doubt we will be landing at Guam very shortly. Tokyo will have to wait a bit. Pretending is fun huh? My peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the gray gloved hand...

CD
Sometimes taking control of your existence returns just that.