Eight Ginger Ales

A great Jonathon Brooks story!


This is my latest flash fiction story.

The ginger ale was my only saving grace during the airplane ride. I had never flown before. Mom and Dad were a few rows in front of me. I could see the backs of their heads. Where do they keep the parachutes on these things in case things go wrong? I checked under my seat and found no parachute. And then I said the Lord’s prayer in silence. I hoped to be delivered from a possible plane crash. I took another sip of ginger ale. It tasted like heavenly peace.

Finally I got the courage to open my window shade. The clouds looked like the stuff poets write about. This is where my head and heart belong, I thought. I felt like Peter Pan flying through the sky. Although I was not a lost boy or on my way to Never Never Land…

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