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I swung forward, grunting as my stomach dug into the desk.
The flight attendant rushed to my side and double-checked my seatbelt, yanking hard on the loop. Another violent shake sent her flying into the chair across from me.
She dragged herself into a sitting position, fighting every cruel jolt.
“Keep your seatbelt on, Mr. Sun.”
No shit.
I flipped the window up, staring into the abyss. White confetti swept by in a blizzard of alabaster and gray.
Midway into our descent, the snow transformed into rain. Heavy drops smashed against the glass.
“Is it always like this?” The stewardess white-knuckled her armrest, dropping her head back. “I’m only three months into this job. This is my first storm.”
I ignored her, fighting to keep upright as the plane tossed us round and round like a blender. The co-pilot’s tablet tumbled from the table to the carpet, triggering its playlist. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles.
A vicious lurch slammed my head into the wall. The song switched. “Bookends” by Simon & Garfunkel.
The same song playing when Dad died.
Suddenly, I couldn’t hear my own thoughts.
Cars honking.
Rain pouring.
The sword and octopus on the window.
Another sharp jounce.
The pendant.
I flew up in my seat, landing back down with a thump.
Souls are priceless, Zach. Try to protect yours any way you can.
I tucked my chin into my chest, battling the turbulence. “I’m trying, Dad.”
One day, you’ll learn to appreciate beautiful things.
“I did, Dad. Her name is Farrow.”
More honks.
Star-crossed lovers.
A horn.
I’d finally learned to appreciate beautiful things, and I would die in the air before I ever got to see her again.
Dad’s wide eyes.
His torso colliding with mine.
Drip, drip, drip.
The plane dropped quick, slicing through rain.
