“You may now turn your electronic devices on.” The flight attendant’s announcement dropped like a lead weight in my stomach.
I wanted to leave my phone off, letting calls go straight to voice mail, but then I’d have a record of his message on continuous loop ~ punishing myself, refusing to erase it, keeping it to listen to over and over.
The break had to be clean, we couldn’t just be friends.
The seat belt lights went out and I unbuckled. I had just closed my eyes, when it felt like the bottom of the plane fell out.
Other passengers around me screamed. The captain’s voiced came on the intercom telling us to secure our seats and buckle in. Looking out my window, I saw blue smoke billowing out of the engines and the ground rising up at an uncomfortable speed.
Pulling my phone out of my pants pocket, I clicked on his number. A part of me wanted him to not answer, to leave my own message for him to listen to for eternity.
“Hello?”
My mouth went dry and my tongue felt heavy.
“Hello?”
Words wouldn’t form and no sound made its way from my throat.
“Hello?”
“Reid, it’s me.”
“Hey! I wondered when you’d call. I can still pick you up. When does your flight arrive?”
I almost laughed. Holding the phone tight against my ear, I hoped he couldn’t hear all the background mayhem ~ women and children were crying, several people were loudly praying.
“You don’t need to pick me up,”
“Connie, don’t do this. We can work it out, please don’t give up on us.”
An oxygen mask fell from its overhead compartment. Grabbing the nosepiece, I filled my lungs with gas, knowing the effort was futile.
“No, Reid. There are no more chances. I did love you once, remember that.”
“Connie!”
I left the connection open, knowing he’d hear the inevitable explosion. My last thought was wondering if we’d make the lead on the evening news.
Trifecta, a weekly one-word prompt, challenges writers to use that word in its third definition form, using no less than 33 words or no more than 333. The week’s prompt is: Flight [noun \ flīt \] 3a: a trip made by or in an airplane or spacecraft; b: a scheduled airplane trip.
Wow. I’d love to know more about their relationship and how it ended up with this scene. Nice job!
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I’m in complete agreement with Joy. I bet this really IS how it goes. She’s a bit of a jerk for leaving the line open. 🙂 But I love how you handled it. Also, great photo. I love your creativity.
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I feel kind of bad for the guy. It seems like she wants him to suffer. I’m already a fearful flyer and this story didn’t help that 🙂
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I’ll bet this is just how these things happen: much less dramatic and more prosaic. People thinking about their Life Things, and then they suddenly realize that it’s all going away. Nice job.
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