Night Flight

by Diane Brady

It haunted my sleep, seeing that streamlined beauty on the tarmac, so familiar yet elusive. While the air outside my bedroom vibrated and rumbled with distant thunder, I walked around the airplane I would soon pilot; in dreams, you don’t always know where you’re going, just that you’re headed somewhere and, often, with apprehension. I sat inside the cockpit to study the panel, which at that point seemed unfamiliar and complex even though I had flown this bird for many years. There was someplace I had to be, someplace I was traveling to in a few days, and I sensed I would not fly myself there because something was wrong – very wrong. Although I have never desired to relive my past, I yearned then to move back in time so I could once again fly my little airplane with confidence high above the Earth. Suddenly, the morning sun streams through my window, and I open my eyes; but the air is still electric, as in my dream, the bright sunlight fading quickly as angry clouds move across the tropical landscape; I am caught between two worlds, confused, uncertain, questioning the heavens and the pounding rain, pleading, this time, not to sweep away my soul.


Diane Brady is currently serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Belize, C.A.


quin browne said...

i love how you captured that limbo part of waking from a dream, not here, not there... caught.

Anonymous said...

I like the dream scape. Frank Z wrote in a song, "Did you ever wake up in the morning with the zombie world behind your eyes." Having experienced this feeling you elude to, I can envision your scenario. Cheers!