by thenewgreen

These details are fresh, beyond fresh, more than memories, as if someone took a sharp kitchen knife and carved them into my brain, because in that simple moment, the plane lurched and fell—how many hundreds of feet I don’t know—fell out of the clouds and toward the ground. The cabin filled with smoke. The plane leveled again, and it struck me that no one made a sound. We sat in wild-eyed fear. My hands gripped my purse. The captain’s voice filled the plane. He sounded afraid.