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January 22, 2008


Flying on a jet plane...

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My third scotch burned joyfully down my throat. This was going to work, wasn't it?

I'd considered driving back, but when I'd had this idea, there was no other course of action. Fall asleep on the jet on the way; a dividing line between lives, between a mistake and its correction.

I closed my eyes.

My eyes snapped open, and after a moment of disorientation, I smiled, remembering. The love of my life was waiting for me at the airport when I landed.

Just one last task. I wet my finger in my mouth and slipped the wedding ring off.

Posted by: LJ at January 22, 2008 6:56 AM · Permalink

Forgive me for commenting on my own work, but reading it over again, I noticed a strange ambiguity in the last three sentences.

When I wrote it, I pictured the narrator on the plane, remembering that his love was going to be at the airport waiting for him, and slipping off his ring while still on the plane. But it could be read to say he landed at the airport, was greeted by his love, then slipped off his ring. I'm not sure which interpretation I like better.

I hate it when these stories have a life of their own.

Posted by: LJ at January 23, 2008 2:24 AM · Permalink

When I read it yesterday, I had assumed that he slipped it off before the plane landed...I had not even considered the alternative.

Posted by: Ree at January 23, 2008 2:26 PM · Permalink

Neither had I until I re-read it. Fun.

Posted by: LJ at January 24, 2008 12:24 AM · Permalink

Check before you post!