The 4th G

2020-10-06T00:00:00+00:00

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.

Prompt 17

2020-09-27T00:00:00+00:00

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!

Wait, did it work???… No…..

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him!

It just doesn’t make sense. None of it does. And she’s not helping. She never helps me. She only helps him, always him. Always him…

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

Hold on. Maybe? No. Perhaps.. No. But,.. No. And she pointed out what I’m doing wrong, but that’s not helping. I need to know how to do it. Telling me I’m wrong is easy. Even I can tell I’m wrong. Tell me, show me, teach me how. The way that works. The way it works for him.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

And now this duality from you. I know he’s better. I can see that. I can see how he’s different. But why do you devote so much time to him? He’s already ahead, leave him be. Can’t you see I improved as well? I know it’s not as much. I know it’s not as fast. I know. But she’s teaching him. All the after hours, all the extra effort, all the teachings I crave go to him, just him.

I hate him. I hate him. I hated him.

Now she’s paying attention to me. Now she’s telling me she’s sorry. How she failed me. How knowing the limits is crucial. How not doing it wrong is more important than improving. I might have cared. I might have listened. Late, too late. I’m now stuck with the reeking iron smell of blood and his blank silent stare looking into nothing from what remained of his unmoving corpse.

I hated him. I hate her. I hate myself.

Prompt 17: Write about how a character teaches children magic. When one kid proves stronger than expected, they have to help them understand exactly what they can do to prevent them from doing something that could be dangerous

nraw prompts

The 4th G

Prompt 17