The Wing Walker

You can also listen to Natalie Winter read this story over at the Mash Stories Soundcloud podcast

The Wing Walker

We’re in the desert and it’s way more beautiful than I expected.

In the early morning light, the sand is dusky pink, a damask rose that folds, dips and ripples like the ocean.

I had imagined something harsh. A sun too bright to walk towards, a wind that flicked sand grains at your eyes, a heat that left you brittle.

The calm comes as a surprise.

It was Alexander’s idea.

“The Al Ain” he said.

When I looked at him, not understanding, he explained.

“The Arabian desert.”

He’s always had a taste for adventure, a flair for spectacle.

I watch him now as he readies the plane. He carries out the familiar routine of safety checks with the grace of a dancer, his movements slow and fluid. I imagine him standing on the wing going through the sequence of tricks. He’d make a great wing walker.

With each completed task he nods and ticks a checklist.

He knows I’m watching. I always watch. And in all honesty I think the list is meant for me. Reassurance.

“Janey! You ready?”

I nod and ease myself up out of the sand, plummeting down the dune towards him, collapsing forward into his outstretched arms.

“Whoa! Take care!”

And I have to laugh. Soon I will be hundreds of feet in the air, strapped to the wing, dancing and turning somersaults while Alexander guides the plane through loop the loops and death spirals.

The motor sputters to life and the propellers whirr.

From the cockpit Alexander gives me a thumbs up and I return the gesture.

“Ready” I tell him.

We rise into a sky as blue as cobalt and the air hits me, warm as the heat from a blow-dryer.

And I cannot move. The sequence of tricks forgotten as I look out across the desert. Its vastness fills me, warm and glowing as gold. The hum of the propeller, the whisper of the wind, reverberating through me like a meditation hum.

“Once we’re up we cannot land until we turn back to the strip” Alexander had explained.

“Is that dangerous?” I had asked.

He didn’t reply.

But fixed to the top of the plane all I see is beauty and I open my arms wide, as a “whoop!” of joy flows out of me.

Alexander loops and spirals. Pitches left and right.

Blue of sky, glint of sun, glow of sand. The desert whirls around me.

And I stand aloft, transfixed as it rises up towards us and I never want to land.

 

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This story was written for the second Mash Stories competition. A competition for which I am one of the current readers and jury members.

The competition challenges writers to produce a story of 500 words or less using a set of three randomly generated words.

For this competition the words were: Cockpit – Honesty -Blow-dryer.

My story was written as a just for kicks example.

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