It’s been a good flight so far.
Smooth take off. Beautiful blue skies. If I was a writer I might describe it as ‘cerulean’ if I actually knew the shade.
But I’m not and I don’t. Today I guess I’m more of a pilot taking flight on my first solo journey into the heavens.
Whatever happened to those bumper stickers that read ‘God is my co-pilot?’ I used to see them everywhere. Well, if God was ever my co-pilot he bailed out long ago. Nice example for Him to set. She took His cue and bailed, too, though more recently than did the Spirit in the Sky. And the repercussions were harder to take.
She took the kids. Took the house. Even took the damn dog!
Mostly, though, she took my heart and my future. Ha! How’s that for a cliché? Sounds like a country-western song. At least I’m not swimming in a mug of draft at some sleazy saloon. Nope. No drunken wallowing around in misery for me.
For me, the sky’s the limit.
“Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,” is how that poet put it. What was his name? Magee? Magoo? Magilla?
Someone else once said “what goes up must come down.” Ain’t that the truth. I’ve been up. Now I’m crashing down. It’s going to be a rough landing. Granted, any landing you can walk away from is a good one.
But little good awaits the end of this flight from the bridge over troubled waters! There will be no walking away at the end of it.
What have I done?