Last Flight Home [completed]

✈ xxix.

[ +160 MINUTES ]

I think when your senses become overwhelmed, time slows down and it's like you're literally frozen in place. In this case, it was me standing in the middle of a bunch of emergency vehicles with my jaw dropped to the Earth's core as I stared out at the bay. About 200 feet into the water, a plane has been on fire for close to three hours and I feel like I can't even breathe.

"Are you okay?" Jerry asks as he places his hand on my shoulder.

I look up at his hard, bearded face that was covered in sweat. In his hand, he held his dusted fire helmet and on his elbow was his fire jacket.

"I don't know," I begin. "Do they know which flight crashed?"

"Can you keep a secret?" Jerry starts. "Because if I tell you and you happen to tell the press-"

I cut him off. "I met this girl in California during my layover and she flew to Boston with me. Her flight left like twenty minutes before I showed up at the fire station, and I just want to know if she landed in New York City safe and just decided to not call me or well, you know."

"It was Flight 2397, the one heading to New York City."

[- ✈ -]