What Will I Tell Her?

The aircraft shakes violently as debris breaks off into the wind. Rising smoke blurs my vision as my hands tremble to regain control. The aircraft begins to tilt downwards, and I instinctively reach for the lever to open the cockpit. However, the lever locks, and a cold chill runs up my spine.

The cold chill turns into ice, and I feel the moment slow to a freeze. My mind’s canvas unravels, and I see a young couple kneeling before an alter, receiving God’s grace. This picture blossoms into an image of a beautiful woman in a wedding dress walking down a familiar church aisle. Suddenly, tears flood the canvas, and I see a beautiful wife crying as she watches her husband go off to war. As she weeps, a young child beside her looks confused and asks where his father is going.

The canvas turns brittle and suddenly shatters into a million pieces. I hear a voice, a shouting voice, a familiar voice. I glance to the left and see my good friend flying dangerously close to me. I can barely make out his words,

“What will I tell her?!”

As tears begin to run down my bloodied face, the edges of my mouth curve into a sorrowful smile. I look into my friend’s eyes, then straight ahead, and shout,

“Tell her.. tell her I’ll be waiting!”

My friend nods, pulls up as fast as he can, and disappears into the clouds above.

They say that your life flashes before your eyes as death knocks on your front door.
They say that eternity opens before your eyes as death knocks down your front door.
However, in this moment, I prefer to open the front door, smile, and confidently say,

“C’mon then, let’s go find that blissful shore.”

Plane 2

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