By Frederica Danzinger
As the nasally-voiced crew member requests that you prepare for take-off, you can’t help but wonder if it’s the intercom, or if they all sound that way.
Ignoring the safety speech, you try to reassure yourself that you’ll be okay. Escalators notwithstanding, aren’t planes the safest form of travel?
Unconvinced, your stomach starts a lurching contest with the plane as the metal monster begins to creep across the tarmac.
Clammier than cheap-buffet seafood, the roar of the engine awakens within you the urge to die, quickly.
Approaching the sky, all you can think is “I’m not afraid of flying…”
Frederica Danzinger is a writer and translator from Canada. She loves reading anything full of hope, or horror, or both. She's married to a genderless void, and lives with seven tarantulas, three cats, and a baby ball python.