I had waited years for this day, but now that the ancient famous aircraft stood before me, all I could think of was the plane crashing with my wife inside.
I stared at the cockpit and wondered what the pilot had been thinking when he realised that the aircraft was sinking. They said it was an accident. Or had the pilot purposefully crashed the plane? I would never know.
I stared at the metal coating and imagined it shredding to pieces as the aircraft hit those fatal rocks below. They had only found the remnants of the plane, spread across a vast area, where it had crashed.
I stared at the back of the plane and imagined what my wife must have been thinking when she found out she was going to die. Did she scream? Was she calm and collected, trying to keep a cool head and figure out a way to change their fate?
Xandria, my poor wife, is all I think now, and I begin to weep as I stare at the old aircraft, unable to get images of the shreds of aircraft and body parts from my mind.
FFftPP, Week #18 – 2016
Photo prompt provided by https://pixabay.com/en/fixed-wing-trainer-harvard-yellow-316707/
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