John is Dead

His flying was jaunty.

He spent weeks at a time away from his family,

encrusted in grease and shards of steel.

 

His hands burned.

 

His maiden voyage would be “one for the ages.”

 

As he sat in the cockpit

sweating,

his key sat idle in his hand,

his heart lumped itself in his throat.

He was prepared to make it happen.

He was prepared to prove his neighbors wrong.

The key turned.

The spark between the ignition and the battery lit up.

The plane exploded and John was dead.

And still no one cared.

Advertisements

~ by Shawn M. Young on May 24, 2014.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

 
%d bloggers like this: