looming raze in my dreams, airplanes are almost always harbingers of death. if someone i love gets on a plane without me, i know i'll never see them again. if i'm a passenger on any sort of aircraft, there's a decent chance i won't make it home. a decade ago, long before the detroit metro airport altered their flight patterns and started strafing us with nineteen hours of near-constant noise every day of the week, i had a dream i was back in high_school. the hallway flooded after i got caught cutting class. "there's nothing more beautiful than a girl watching you underwater while you run away," i said. but i couldn't move. and the girl i was talking about wasn't looking at me. she was holding her breath with her eyes closed, trying not to drown. i found myself on dry land. i was standing in a field with a large group of people. some of them were friends. i lagged behind. i noticed something strange in the sky. i thought it was a malfunctioning army drone. then i realized it was the most massive airplane i'd ever seen. and it was about to crash. i started walking backwards. i wanted to tuck tail and throw myself into a dead run, but i was terrified to break eye contact with the hulking brainless beast above me. i was sure the moment i looked away i would die. my reluctance to join the rest of the group saved my life. the plane without a pilot dismembered dozens of people i knew and didn't know. i watched them die. i watched my father drag his own father from the wreckage, white-haired and without the lower half of his body. someone asked if they should call an ambulance. "just get the ladder," my dad said. "he's already dead." and then i_woke_up. today my dream almost came true. i was standing in my own back yard. i heard something awful and spun around in time to see a twin-engine airliner hovering half a foot above the roof of my house. it was something straight out of a nightmare. an enemy ship spawning in the final stage of an uninspired video game with incredible graphics but poor hit detection and no storyline to speak of. i didn't back away. like a squirrel being stalked by a red_tailed_hawk, i made myself as still as i was able and stared into the unsparing, featureless face of fear. if i'd been built a bit taller and the plane had been flying just a little lower, i wouldn't be writing this right now. i would be dead. i watched that winged thing glide away from me, almost near enough to touch. and i wondered how many more close calls there might be before whatever luck i have left runs out. 250516 what's it to you? who go blather from