the first airplane

He sits in my periphery, a hope, an idea, bubbling with potential. His construction is sound, the logical expectation is that he will fly.

And yet, doubt fills me, fear overtakes me and across the field I see my friend has come to join me, to help get him up or at the least, to listen to me wonder what it might take to get things off the ground. The closer she gets to him, the more she takes his side, the more she begins to love him.

As I stand aside while she admires his lines and capabilities, I see the sun shine a little brighter, I see her face glow from excitement. And so, because I'm scared of flying I offer him to her. I hope that she will oppose the idea, but she enthusiastically jumps inside and sets herself up in the seat.

I want to tell her to get out, go away, but instead I admire his ability to fly. I'm happy that he works the way I knew he would.