Flight of Destiny

The Words:   Itinerary          Distortion         Turbulence 

  I glanced down at the itinerary I held in my hand, with new butterflies erupting in my stomach. I've crumpled the sheet of blue paper while off in my own thoughts. I'm still so surprised that I'm doing this. I can't believe I'm sitting here at the air port waiting to board the plain. That Plain I've been dreaming about taking for over a year. that Plain that will change my life forever. For better or worse I do not know yet. Either way will be better than this holding pattern I've been in for the past eighteen months. At least that is what I keep telling myself. More butterflies at the thought of seeing him again. I absently flatten my itinerary across the knee of my jeans, still in a place far from the air port where I sit. I finally focus on the neat lines of print running across the ripples I've made in the paper. Tracing each line with my finger I carefully read each word. I've done this at least ten times already but this little list of words seems to be the only thing that is real to me . Everything else is so surreal.
  "Flight 362 Boston to New York is now boarding all rows. Now boarding all rows." Comes over the speakers causing me to jump. Knocking over my bag the contains scattering across the industrial carpet. I can't believe I missed them calling my seat.  "Crap!" I look over at the boarding doors, still a line. I start shoving items in my bag trying to hurry before the last person in line is at the ticket counter. I get everything that was on the floor in the bag and holding the flaps closed at the top rush over with my ticket out.
  "Thank you." The woman behind the counter says as she takes my ticket to scan it. "Is everything okay?" She asks handing back my ticket. At my puzzled expression she says "Your bag, I saw it spill. Did you find everything?"
  "Oh, yes. Thank you." I automatically look back at the spot were I was sitting. And there on the chair next to mine is a square of blue. To late to go back for the itinerary. Good thing I memorized it. I turn and walk down the flexible hall to the waiting plain. I find my seat, I'm the last one on. I get my bag straightened up zipped and stowed under the seat in front of me just in time to feel the plain taxiing down the runway. I pop a stick of gum in my mouth and settle back in my seat closing my eyes. I don't need to have the window seat, I'm not interested in the view. I just don't want to be disturbed. I'm happy to retreat into the world in my head, the world I'll be getting back to soon, until the flight is over.
  As soon as I feel the plain level out I let myself fully relax. That's when his image starts to form on my darkened lids. It starts out as a vague shadow, slowly sharpening. The first thing to come into focus were his eyes, two pools of brown jasper surrounded by fabulously curving lashes. Next was his full lips pulled back in his typical easy smile. The rest quickly fallowed, close cropped black hair, broad shoulders, narrow waist. This beautiful man, all tall dark and handsome, is waiting for me. I still can't believe that he is waiting for me.


  I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was jolted as the plain touched the tarmac. I sat up, rubbed a hand across my eyes and down my face, and looked out the window for the first time.
  There was about a foot of snow on the ground! Not to unusual for New York if it was a few months earlier but it was late May. Way to late for snow! I closed my eyes, thinking that I still had remnants of sleep distorting my vision. I opened them, closed them again rubbed at them and opened again. The snow was still there. The members of the ground crew I saw were dressed for extreme cold. Things were starting to get a little strange.
  I turned to the middle aged business woman sitting in the isle seat, "Do you see the snow? Why is there snow on the ground in May?"
  "There's always snow. Where have you been?" She said looking at me as if I was a little crazy.
  "There is always snow in New York City? Since when?" I couldn't keep the disbelief out of my voice.  "Not just New York City but the whole world. For the past fifteen years there has been nothing but snow. Really you should know this, you should have learned about this in school. You don't look older than your early twenties, how do you not know about the Global Freeze?" She shook her head and stood.
  Only then did I realize that the plain had pulled up to the gate and passengers were disembarking. Grabbing my bag from under the seat in front of me, I stood and got ready to get off. 
I'm going to have to buy a parka.

That's all for this one (I am trying to keep these short). Please let me know what you think.

One Sunny Day

The words:   Interrupted    Tendril     Bear(carry)

The bright yellow of the morning sun streams through the window, urging my eyelids open. I stretch sprawling in the middle of my queen size bed, happy for the space. I sit up looking out the window that is no more than two feet away from the side of my bed. Curtains wide, sash up letting in the warm breeze, already heavy with the sanest of mid-summer blooms.
Finally it's Saturday! I swing my feet to the sun warmed wood floor. Going to the window I push up the screen and lean out as far as I can, close my eyes and breath deep of the new day. I am again reminded of why I bought this house. Little and white with blue shutters, more of a two story cottage then anything. Built in a clearing on the out skirts of a small town, full of wild flowers all summer and most of the spring and fall. Beyond the clearing is a grove of young trees full of bright green leaves and dappled sunshine. This place is so peaceful and full of life it makes me smile to myself. When I open my eyes I see red and gray squirrels running up and down trees, chasing each other and it makes me laugh out loud. The low rumble of my stomach interrupts my reverie. I slowly pull my head back in to my room and look at the clock on my dresser. Only 7:30, that must mean I was up before seven this morning! Shaking my head I grab my jeans and my favorite tank out of my closet. I toss them on and bound down the stairs. It is early enough that I decide to make a decent breakfast for a change, no Special K shake for me today! I root through the cupboards until I have every thing I need on the large island in the kitchen. I go into the living room and put my most upbeat CD on, then dance back into the kitchen. By the time the last song is playing I have a plate full of home made waffles, hash browns and scrambled eggs. I put it on a tray with a bowl of fresh fruit, a steaming cup of coffee and my latest book. I took it all out to the little table and chair on the rap around porch just outside the kitchen, to watch the animals and enjoy the sun. After an hour of eating, reading and day dreaming I heard loud crashing coming from the woods fifty feet from where I sat. For the first time at this place, my sanctuary from the outside world, I felt the small tendrils of fear creep up my spine. All I could seem to do is curl my fingers around the sharp knife sitting on the tray. The handle still sticky from cutting the fruit. I was so focused on the crashing that was getting louder that I didn't hear the shouting at first. A black streak came bounding out of the woods with a red faced young man following. I stood abruptly as the large dog raced around my house once then bounded up the stairs to my porch. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and relaxed my stance.
"He won't hurt you." the young man called to me slowing his pace when he saw the dog stop and sit at my feet.
"Oh, I know." I say back, watching him cross the clearing. He was easily six feet tall, sandy brown hair, tan. He was dressed in jeans and a T, hiking boots and a faded red ball cap.
"What's his name?" I ask as he tops the stairs.
"Bug." He hesitates then adds, "You can put the knife down."
"Oh. Sorry I forgot I picked it up." I drop the knife back on the tray as I say, "Bug is an odd name for a dog."
He laughs, the sound deep and warm, "Once you get to know him it gets a lot clearer. You wouldn't believe it but he was also a tiny puppy."
I smile down at the wiggly black body at my feet, " You're right I can't believe it."
I look back up at the man and realize up close he looks closer to my age then I first thought. I also notice his brown eyes, a few shades darker than my caramel colored ones.
"I'm Isak McCrea.” He reaches his hand between us.
“Summer Day.” I shake his hand and continue before he can say anything, “I know, my parents had a poor sense of humor.”
“No I like it.” he smiles.
“Try growing up with it.” I give a short sarcastic laugh.
I drop my hand to the dog's nose and let him sniff it before I kneel to scratch behind his ears. It suddenly hits me why the man's name sounds familiar to me. I look up at him, "You're that firefighter I read about in the paper, the one that saved the little boy from that house fire a few weeks back."
"Yeah that's me." He said looking a little uncomfortable.
"Oh, I bet you get that a lot. So what brings you way out here on a Saturday? I mean besides Bug running like a mad man or dog I should say."
Looking happy at the not to subtle subject change Isak replied "Actually I'm your neighbor. I live about a mile through the woods the way Bug and I came out."
"Did you run the whole way?" I ask taking in his face that is still red and beaded with sweat.
"Most of it." He kneels to pet long strokes down Bug's back. "He's never gone this far from our house before. We were taking a walk along the trails between the house and the stream when he just took off. It seemed like he was making sure I was fallowing but he didn't stop 'til we got here."
We both looked at the dog sitting between us for a long moment. Bug was trying so hard to be still but his front paws kept doing the two step on the ruff wood of the porch.
"Would you like a glass of water?" I ask rising to my feet.
"That would be nice. And Maybe a bowl for Bug?"
"Feel free to have a seat, I'll be right back." I grab the tray of used dishes and my book and head into the kitchen. When I come back out with a glass and bowl full of water Isak is in the chair I had used this morning his, hat on the table and Bug sprawled at his feet.
"He seems to have calmed down." I say handing Isak his glass and setting the bowl by Bug's head.
"I'm not surprised he's not usually so wound up." Isak pauses to take a long drink. "He only gets this way when we play fetch with his favorite ball, It looks like a bunny." He whispers the last part, but I still see Bug's ears perk up.
I sit in the chair on the other side of the table and scan the edge of the woods "Is there a path that Bug followed out there?"
"Part of the way but mostly he charged through the brush in a straight line to your clearing." I look at Isak my eyebrows raised. "It's true and I've never seen him do that. He likes to stay on the trail."
"So what kind of dog is he any way?"
"Black lab, Coon hound mix."
"Coon hound that explains where he got those big floppy ears from."
That's as far as I got for now.

Soul Jumper

Okay so I'm trying something new. I pick random words from a list and try to connect them together in a story.

The words:  Reft (take by force)    Headfirst    Warehouse

   I looked from monitor to monitor shifting in my set, trying to get comfortable. I didn’t want to go out to do my rounds. It was a dark night, no moon, and only a few of the lights that ringed the perimeter of the large building actually glowed. I don’t like being on watch by myself on nights like these. Things always seem to happen. The outsiders like the dark. It’s a wonder that the lights don’t get replaced more often. But this is just an out of the way warehouse, just used for storage. Only two or three watchmen at night not very important compared to other places, like the housing facility or the evening entertainment complex. That doesn’t make the dark nights any easier to work. It doesn’t help when the other watchman calls in sick. Scared is more like it. I can understand his fear he’s new to the night shift. I don’t mind to much any more, not after ten years at this gig, besides I need the money. Only when there is no moon and the sky is so thick with clouds that not a single star can be seen do I get this uneasy feeling. I leaned back in my chair and stretched my arms out to the sides almost touching the side walls of the small office that held the bank of monitors. That’s when I saw a quick movement in a monitor at my periphery. I sat up strait looking closer at the monitor in question and the ones covering nearby areas. In the monitor covering the side entrance corridor I picked up movement again. It was just a slight shadow, like someone just out of range moving back and forth. I jumped up grabbing my night stick and unsnapping my holster. I quickly went out the door that entered the warehouse moving down the left hall. I rounded the corner to my right and slowed my pace making sure my steps were silent. As I came up to the intersection with the side entrance corridor I rested my hand on the but of my gun and pressed my back to the wall. I inched closer to the open area ahead and looked across to the side entrance door. There was no one there. I Took a quick look over my right shoulder into the other part of the hall, no one. I noticed the shadow I had seen it the monitor and followed it to it’s source. It was a large leaf at the top of the entrance door window. I stood straight sliding my night stick back in the loop on my belt, staring at the shadow on the floor. Boy was I glad no one saw that. My back was to the door now, so I assumed the slight scraping sound I heard was the leaf on the window. When it got louder I turned and it felt like someone ran headfirst into my stomach. I’m not sure what happened after that. The next time I was aware of any thing I was looking down at the back of a tall man with the same color brown hair as me. I thought it funny I was looking down on him because he was standing and seemed to be very tall. Before I could do anything or call out he turned. I was beyond shocked, he had my face. For a moment that was all I could focus on was his, my face. I shook myself enough to take in the rest of this man. He was wearing my uniform, my wedding ring, my shoes. I looked closer at his hands and saw the faint chicken pox scars across the back of the left one. If I wasn’t me I would swear that this guy in front of me was. that’s when he seemed to look right at me and started to speak.
   “You look a little confused. Well I can tell you what just happened if you like. Or I could just take your body and leave you in the dark.” That was my voice but I have never sounded so evil. He turned and headed for the door, turning back to sneer “By the way I am the only one who will ever be able to see you.” With that he was out the door. I looked down and realized I could see right through my legs, everything went black.

That's as much as I have on this one I'll try to have another one soon.