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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 9, Number 1, March 2015


Bob Lucky
Jubail, Saudi Arabia

Always the Last to Know

Last night I woke up and my wife and I were in a plane obviously going nowhere anyone else wanted to go because it was so empty we had an entire aisle to ourselves. She had a window seat on one side and I had the aisle seat on the other side. Suddenly the plane veered off to the left and began a steep decline. At first we just looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders because god knows the sky is full of air pockets, but then the plane picked up speed and began to whine just like in those movies before someone bursts into the cockpit to level it out and save everyone, but no one came to the rescue and my wife and I looked at each other again and she rolled her eyes as if to say wouldn't you know it would end like this. We reached out and were just able to touch fingers and I told her I loved her but she couldn't hear me because I couldn't even hear myself for all the screaming and the sound of twisting metal, and that's when the plane went into a nose dive. I closed my eyes and when I opened them we were on the ground looking up at a plane falling from the sky, realizing at the same time that it was pointed straight at us, so we jumped on a tandem bicycle and began pedaling as fast as we could, looking up to see if we were going in the right direction, but that damn plane had eyes like the Mona Lisa, followed us everywhere. We came to a roundabout and went around it six times, cursing and shaking our fists at the sky because all the cars kept honking at us. Let's go home, I said. Later we watched the plane crash into our house on the evening news.

fall colors
every year forgetting
what happens next



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