Turbulence-Final Draft

I stared past the fingerprints smeared across the double-paned plexiglass of the Boeing 737.  The  scarlet wing lights of the plane winked rhythmically on the edge of my peripherals, piercing through the late night fog.  We were traveling on the redeye flight out of Hartford, away from the lush parks and suburbs of West Hartford, Connecticut, that was my home.  I yawned. This was to be my second five hour flight in the last thirty-six hours.  I rubbed my eyes in dissent. The violet clouds obstructing the plane windows began to dissipate, and the last wisps of fog melded into the bustle of white and yellow lights that, in the midnight sky, was all to be seen of the sprawling city of Hartford.  Ah well, I sighed, shutting my eyes, it makes sense that I’m so tired. Three conferences and meetings in the last two days, and those damn Powerpoint presentations alone almost knocked me out!  I smiled thinly as the last thought passed through my mind.  My eyelids fluttered spastically as they slowly drooped shut, and, after a moments defiance from my very-much -awake, coffee-fueled brain, I quickly fell into unconsciousness. As the clutches of sleep bore down upon me, I was awakened by the dull thump of luggage hitting the cabin floor.  I looked up, my eyes still heavily lidded with sleep. The sound peaked my interest.  As I rubbed my eyes absently, I was startled by a bloodcurdling scream.  The plane had spun into a barrel roll, slowly rotating onto it's side. Time stopped.  In a single jolting motion, I was thrown heavily to my right, my head hitting something warm and sticky: the meaty cheekbone of the large texan who was sitting next to me.  He was red faced, and screaming.  

 

Hot spit splattered my face, causing me to recoil in disgust.  Bolo tie flailing, the man tried to squeeze out of his seat, but was stopped by the tight grip of the arm rests that were jammed into the inner-folds of his love-handles.  The plane continued to roll.  A few rows back, a woman screamed.  She was fiercely clutching her baby, who was swaddled in a bright blue blanket. The baby was crying, slowly clenching and unclenching its fists in a pitifully distressed manner; and suddenly it was slipping, slipping from its mother’s grasp despite her desperate attempts to hold on.  The whole plane seemed to hold it’s breath. Even as the baby fell, its mother’s face hardened into a look of determination, as if she could will her child back into the empty shell of a blanket that she now cradled in her arms.  I looked away, as if my doing so would prevent what was bound to happen next. 

 Yet the crying never stopped.  Instead, it was replaced by  childish giggling. I looked down, surprised. The baby had landing amongst the heap of open luggage, clothes, and accessories that were strewn along the length of the plane ceiling.  The plane cheered.  I laughed, relieved, but then it hit me. The ceiling? I looked around.  Everything was reversed.  Upside down.  Dazed, I looked around at the other passengers, some of whom were still sleeping, their heads thickly padded in fat neck cushions, or otherwise stone-faced,. Their faces were veiny and red from the blood rushing to them.  Concerned with their own doings, it seemed as if the other passengers had also just noticed our predicament. The plane stopped spinning.  And then suddenly, as if a spell had broken, the distressed murmuring died down, replaced by an eerie fear-induced silence, broken only by a wailing stewardess,  shaking her colleague, telling her to wake up. She did not move.  They weren't buckled in when the plane began to turn. 

 With a jolt and a collective cry from the passengers, the plane began to drop, shaking violently. Like flies, they fell, one by one onto the luggage, seatbelt buckles snapping under the tremendous force of gravity.  The ceiling groaned in protest, creaking under the added weight of each additional passenger. I was soon to join them.  The landing was soft, broken by a lacy pink bra and a monogrammed Louis Vuitton bathrobe.  

Not all of the passengers were as lucky. Many were clutching mangled limbs that were broken during the fall, others lay gray and still, the tops of their heads shiny helmets of blood, hair, and gore. The mother with the bright blue blanket hung limp, slumped into an unnatural marionette-like position, her body skewered by broken luggage handles like a mere sack of meat.  Blood dripped from  her open mouth, her eyes fixed into a milky white stare.  The baby was nowhere to be found.  The Texan was the last to go.  With a huff, he slipped out of the armrests, his shirt snagging on a loose bolt. The remaining passengers cringed.  Baby-faced and naked from the waist up, he plummeted towards the ceiling.  Upon impact, the ceiling gave one last desperate groan of protest, and crumpled like tinfoil. I let go, laughing savagely at the incredulity of it all.  

Weightlessness.  Blackness.  Light.

Author's Note

Okay guys.
Thank you so much for the comments and critique! I tried to incorporate as much of your advice as I could, and I hope you enjoy! Even though this is a final draft, critique is still appreciated!

Reviews

[annie lee]

Jason, I did feel a more collective sense of terror in the passengers this time. And the narrator was connected to them this time, but not by much, and since that was your aim, it was successful. This time you told me too much about the narrator's reasons for flying; I think you could have stopped after "Three conferences and meetings in the last two days." the rest of the statement is more than we want to know, and it does diminish the detached demeanor you had aimed for with the narrator. But this is a very tightly told and tense story. I really think it is great. (Now I am not being picky, but the possessive form of it is "its" -- no apostrophe, and the subject contracted form is "it's" -- that's one that keeps haunting folks long after English class.) cheers

[Jason Katz]

Thanks for the feedback. Dialogue, (or thought, in this case) happens to be a chink in my armor. And of course, it seems that perfect grammar has eluded me again! Damn. I thought I got everything this time. Either way, thank you for the feedback! I am sure to keep this in mind next time I write.

[Jamal]

Ok I may not have read your original draft but it seems you took everyone's critique rather well it is very good. it actually feels like I'm in the story. grammar and what not aside I think this could be a very good book.

[Christoph Poe]

I've seen writers stress their first sentence, and it leads your readers into terrible confusion.

"I stared past the smudged fingerprints that smeared the double-paned plexiglass window of our Boeing 737."

I think what sounds better, less repetitive, and rawly more clear would be:

"I stared past the fingerprints smeared across the double-paned plexiglass of the Boeing 737."

That's only a suggestion.

And another little note:

"Just the thought made me drowsy."

Emotions such as 'drowsiness' can and should be shown.

"I rubbed my eyes in respect of my drowsiness." --which clarifies that he's rubbing his eyes due to drowsiness.

Or:

"I rubbed my eyes as I stretched my jaw, deeply inhaling the thin air."

Here I've 'shown' the emotion rather than telling you.

Though you story is interesting, you lack dialogue. We'd like to hear your character talk. Typically, readers like to hear the main character talk A LOT.

I think you're trying a bit too hard. Try thinking more directly when you write, and add adjectives in later. Use stronger verbs, and show us more action. (Which, you've really got the action of events down-pat. It's lacking in action more from your characters though.)

I wish I had more time to ramble through it and give a better review. Do send me a message another day if there's another piece you'd like me to look at.

Respectably, I'm not a professional, so please don't take any of my thoughts to heart. Listen to what everyone is telling you--not just me.

Take care, and good luck. :)
--Christoph Poe

[Jason Katz]

Christoph, I really can't express how thankful I am for a review such as yours. All of your suggestions are concise, specific and much appreciated. I understand the merit in all of your critique, and will be editing this piece accordingly. You would be more than welcome to read the other two pieces I've posted. They are both poems, (so none too lengthy). Thank you again, I hope to see you there!

[Shane Mohamed]

Hey there, great job. I thought your imagery was great. For me, it was as if I was in that plane myself, and I sort of felt sorry for the child and his mother. Everything is quite in place for a final draft, except for the word Texan up top; it's written in smallcase. I commend you on your vocabulary. You're quite skilled. I think you have a great future ahead of you. Thanks for sharing.

[Jason Katz]

I am glad I could provide an immersive experience. Thank you for the heads up in regards to my grammatical errors, I must have passed over them while I was revising.

[Stan]

This is good stuff. I would suggest starting a new paragraph after "old for this s**t." And capitalize Texan. Otherwise it was a tense read. Well done.

[Jason Katz]

Thank you Stan for the grammatical advice. It is greatly appreciated. I'm glad you enjoyed.

[AGWoolford]

Hey man, this is definitely better than the previous draft. I share the same opinion as 2minichinz about the thoughts at the start, but that's a very easy thing to fix and speech comes more naturally the more you write it, thoughts are difficult to write anyway.

There are a few minor things I would alter, but most of them are just personal style choices that subjective to me. Perhaps come back to it in a week or something, and just check that it still has a fluency to it; that all of the sentences run together nicely. I'm not saying that your piece doesn't flow (it does) but it always helps just to polish it off and remove any verbosity. Whenever I edit or rewrite sections of something I frequently have to re-edit my edit - to make sure it fits in with the rest of what I've written.

This more realistic than the previous draft and I feel it's stronger for that. My only advice would be (if you even wanted to, I often lose the will with short stories like this) come back to it in a few weeks and have a final look over it to perfect it.

[Jason Katz]

Hey, thanks for the honesty-it is definitely appreciated-but, at this point, I do feel that it is time to move on. I am actually in the beginning stages of a novel, and will be posting a chapter tonight. Longer pieces are pretty far out of my comfort zone, so I would greatly appreciate some specific feedback on the piece I post tonight. I really get a lot out of your honest feedback, and I am sure it would help my work a lot. Thanks for the review, man.

[AGWoolford]

That's really nice of you to say that. I'm fairly new to this so I try and be honest as I can. It also helps if I only comment on things I like as well haha. And also yeah, drop this and do something else man. I'll read it, and cheers for reviewing my short story as well.

[poetdoug]

Wow, this could be the exact experience of those aboard the Asian Passenger plane that crash-landed in San Fran this past weekend. I think it simply oozes with pathos. Great work

[Jason Katz]

Thank you! I am glad you enjoyed it!