Take-off. My stomach sinks. I leave the everyday world; it shrinks away below then vanishes under a froth of cloud. I am aloft, suspended.
My feet are not anchored to earth. I am weightless. I am a tiny speck in the vastness, separate, yet connected to the never-ending circle of life. Energy races through my veins, white hot. I am enlivened. I can soar, defy gravity, crash through atmosphere and conquer the void beyond.
I met him in the departure lounge. We talked for two hours. We exchanged phone numbers. He touched my hand, my face. I’m in love.
Just in case that’s not enough emotion for you, here’s a little more.
This is another 100 word story for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. You can read all the stories here.