The 4th G

I’m not afraid of flying anymore.

I’m even sort of getting used to it by now, mostly due to Amai’s Flying Tips and Tricks, aka the Fourth G in a Breeze, aka You and your cockpit, aka anything Amai makes up on the spot.

It’s not that rare to fly with someone on the same day any more. I’m lucky enough to fly with Amai, the first flyer ever! My first flight was exactly a year after hers and yet she already seemed like a pro. She had started putting together the tips and tricks, even though she’s only done it merely once.

Today will be my third flight and as I start to position myself in my cockpit and while my mind is boggling with all that I should follow I get a last glimpse at her, with her usual casual smile in between her freckles, getting comfortable for the flight. She looks in my direction, gives me a thumbs up and the cockpits start to close.

The time before hitting the first G is the most boring one. There’s not much to it as it’s basically just waiting. I guess Amai comes up with most of the new ideas for her tips during this time. The first sign that you’re hitting the first G is your left arm starts to tingle. Punctual to the day like clockwork, there’s not much to do at this point. Amai jokes that the only thing you need to assure in the first step is to be in the cockpit, which seems pretty obvious on its own.

The second G is where it gets tricky. By now your left arm has gone numb and the next to follow are your legs. The trick here, apparently, is to keep your legs straight and relaxed. Amai said she tried crossing her legs once and then got massive cramps for hours. Not sure why one would complicate this step, but I leave it to her to push the boundaries.

The third G is the last one where you still have any control left. With only your right arm still operational Amai suggests this is the time to check whether everything is in order, such as if your left arm by any chance ended up in a position that looks like you’re flipping somebody off and to correct it to do so in case it isn’t. She says that looks good on pictures and nobody can blame you for it as you’re unconscious.

It’s all about the fourth G. This is where your engine stops and you’re left to external forces to carry you through. Talking to other flyers, apparently this moment lasts forever to some and it’s just a flicker to others. Amai describes it as the most thrilling part, while to me it’s just a hazy period of nothingness and longing for having control over my body again.

The pinnacle of the flight is over with a short flicker or two of lightning. Flashy, but not like you’re aware of it, and slowly after that you start regaining your senses and limbs.

By the time I finished my flight, Amai was still in the cockpit, middle fingers extended and the serene smile on her face.

I don’t want to call it flying any more. I can’t really think about her tips and tricks any more either. That thing barely resembles a cockpit, as it’s merely a glorified defibrillator, an incubator that restarts the fake heart they gave me when mine failed. The need for a battery refill via the controlled heart attack is okay. But, seems like 4 restarts might be the limit the fake can withstand.

I’m afraid of flying again.

Prompt 18: Write a story about your character and while awaiting test results in the hospital they interact with an odd person who teaches them about a world beyond their own.