Jacob Lawrence, Fantasy: At the Controls of a Jumbo Jet (1992)
May 30, 2003:
Gurney, ER, institutional green walls, dirty white curtain as separator.
Intravenous fluids, generous helping of morphine. Turn your head, the room spins slowly,
so slowly it might be better to say that it rotates.
You laugh. Tilt your head to the side and the rotation looks just like the currently
ubiquitous pilot's-eye video of the bombing of Baghdad. Whee!, I'm a fighter pilot.
"Something's funny?", says the swishy and not super friendly male nurse.
"Oh. Well. Only if you have the brain of a child, I suppose."
Not having the brain of a child, he frowns. More morphine. Spinning, you and your
fighter plane descend together into the gift of sleep's sweet mercy.
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© 2002-2013 Mark Phillips.
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This writing is fiction. Please don't confuse it with reality.