The Mysteries of Flight

Photo by David Kovalenko on Unsplash

Liz took a deep breath, trying to banish images of the plane diving to meet the ground. Would crashing in the woods, or the sea be worse? Were they even flying over a significant body of water?

“So, where are they?” asked Dawn as they stood in line at the airport.

Glad of the distraction, Liz turned to her friend. Dawn didn’t always say much, but since this was her first time flying, she was bound to have questions. Lots of questions. Maybe answering them would keep her mind off her own anxiety. “Where’s, who?”

“The winged serpents. They can’t be in this building, there’s not enough space. Do we have to take a car or something to get to them? I don’t think they’d like cars. Are there carriages?”

Liz blinked in confusion. Dawn was a reasonably intelligent person; they’d met in a math class at the community college and had hit it off. Dawn was much better at math than Liz. But sometimes talking with Dawn was a lot like talking to a four-year old. It wasn’t her fault, of course. Losing all your memory as an adult would do that to anyone. “There are no such thing as winged serpents,” said Liz, starting with the easy part.

Dawn frowned, “But what other animal would we be flying on? Brandon says dragons aren’t real. Besides, you wouldn’t be so upset if there weren’t snakes involved.”

Liz suppressed a shudder. Flying snakes would be so much worse than regular ones. She’d faint dead away. “I’m scared of flying and snakes. Two separate fears. There are no flying snakes. We are getting into an airplane. It’s a machine, made by people. They’re made out of metal and, um, fiberglass.”

Dawn was silent for a moment as they inched up in the line. Her forehead was creased in concentration. “Metal doesn’t fly,” she said at last. “Are you sure this is safe?”

“Yes,” said Liz tersely as headlines declaring Passengers Perish in Explosion and Airplane Wings Weren’t Screwed On Tight flashed across her mind. She took several deep breaths. She could feel Dawn watching her face. “I’ve flown before and survived. We’re both going to be fine.”

“I think we should go by winged serpent,” said Dawn. “They’re intelligent. I had a very nice conversation with one last time. Besides, if we fell, they’d catch us.”

“Um. I think that was a dream,” said Liz as gently as possible. Dawn was always trying to remember something, anything, from the days before her memory vanished. It was painful to see her latch onto the wrong thing. “You must have been reading some fantasy book and had a dream about it. Snakes can’t have wings. Only birds have wings.”

Dawn’s face clouded, but then she pounced on the last thing Liz had said, “Butterflies have wings.”

Liz laughed, “Okay, and some insects too. But not snakes. They’re reptiles. Reptiles don’t have wings.”

“What about pterodactyls?”

“Extinct,” said Liz as they moved forward. Dawn pressed her lips together and Liz wondered how many counter-arguments she’d come up with. She smiled fondly at her friend. It was going to be an interesting flight.



Written for Verge.
For more of Dawn's story see Blank Slate and Out of Reach.