Chapter Three

I started to wonder what it would be like to fall?  More so interested in what would go through my head?  What would I think about in my last seconds before plummeting towards that comforting blanket.  The image of calm quiet passengers falling uncontrollably, a mob of chaotic bliss.  How like life, I thought, unsure of wether I was making a comment or posing a question.  The stewardess woke me from my waking dream and for a second time asked wether I wanted anything else to drink, I had my share of alcohol and decided against it.  I considered calling after her when I noticed a family in the seats in front of me and one of the kids had been staring at me through the crack of the seat.  For how long, I wonder?  I wanted to play a game with her but the only thing coming to mind was twenty questions.  She was sitting with her mom who was a somewhat attractive woman with short dark hair and  noticeable full lips, collagen injections and the remains of a face lift.  She had a pair of reading glasses that she was constantly having to push up.  She was reading Dr. Phil, how cliche`.  I kept repeating the word, cliche`, over and over again in my head till it no longer had meaning it was no longer a word but a series of letters;  with just the illusion of meaning.  The girl was still staring and  thought about my freshman speech class we had an assignment to get into groups and to decide on and read a story on tape.  It was an opportunity, apparently, to not only develop sudden use of articulation for every day conversation but also to get to know those people in class that we had not previously taken the time to get to know.  I, as everyone did, chose my two best friends in that class.  We told the story of the Tell Tale Heart, this girl’s eye in the crack of seat reminded me more of it then I’d like.  I turned curiously to see what the gentleman next to me had been up too and once again I found him staring.  Man or Woman?  He said, as I realized that everything that had happened and been said up to this point had been done out loud. 

 I had developed an itch,  building fiercely through  my unconscious.  I ignore it or try to until it demands immediate attention, I scratch violently anywhere and everywhere I am capable of reaching - unsatisfied and in vain I surrender, I relinquish, I resign.  It’s only then I realize that it is not a physical distraction but rather a deep intense anxiety burning it’s way up my spine.  The fasten seat belt sign illuminated above me may as well be branded onto my forehead.  At thirty thousand feet there is nowhere to escape for your mind or body, nowhere but down.  Up and around towards the rear of the plane and the back emergency exit door, I can’t make heads or tails of the hieroglyphs printed beneath the handle.  What the hell can this mean?  Standing back I thrust my foot towards the center of the steel, metal or aluminum door, impatiently and awkwardly again and again.  No one stops me, No one’s even looked up.  Giving up I take a few steps back and hurl my body into the door, back on my feet I try a second time.  Only, a rogue passenger beats me to it lifting the handle and opening the door.  He closes it behind me.  I recall wondering earlier my thoughts as I fell.  

Reviews

[Evelyn Storm]

I really like how you paint this story of the internal battle we face in life with in our own minds. Sometime the hardest battles we fight in life are the ones that take place in our heads. Your story lives up to its title as your character is seeking to obtain his victory to the big mind. I think all of us in many ways attempt to find this perfect synergistic harmony. Well written and good read that makes you question and think. Thanks for sharing!