What follows is a piece inspired by the prompt at Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. The key elements were the photo below, the phrase “I had waited years for this day…” and no more than 200 words.
A Departure – 181 words
I’d waited years for this day.
In preparation, I logged so many flight hours my hand ached from squeezing the throttle. I’d become more at home in the cockpit than in my own car. Through the years, I’d planned and executed missions ranging from simple flyovers to complicated rescue attempts, and, most importantly, each time, I brought my crew and passengers home safely.
There’s nothing like the feeling of flying—no matter if you’re cruising at 20,000 feet on a recon run or skimming the tops of trees in a crop duster. Momma used to tell me I needed to get out and live a little, but to me, the only living was flying.
In the hangar, I closed my eyes to take it all in. Jet fuel scented the air, and the gentle pulse of engines vibrated up through my feet. I was at home.
“You ready to leave those video games behind and try flying a real plane?” the man in the grease-streaked coveralls asked as he gave the propeller a yank.
My throttle hand tingled.