Where Was I?

In no time at all she would be on her way. Alone, on a plane, heading into an unknown future. A shock of adrenalin surged through her nervous system; she felt terrified and exhilarated at once. It was a strange combination of sensations, but, after the time of Absence from herself, simply feeling herself in her body, without the blind need to escape, was reassuring.

The flight from London to Tokyo took off with no complications. At 32,000 feet, she lightly clutched at her neck the silver St Christopher medallion. He's the patron saint of travellers. Aunty Joyce's words as she gave it to her as a leaving present at Heathrow. Memories of Mum, Dinah, Joe, her best friends in the departure lounge, jumped up like rows of jack-in-the-boxes, waving and jumping and smiling, in her inner vision. She had no idea when she would see any of them again. The images dissolved in clouds in her wine glass, she was floating in the sky now. Way below ice flows and snow plains, the Arctic Circle, swirled in frozen loops and whorls like the marble patterns on the front and end pages of an old book. The ancient tome called the Earth. Don't give up on us now... light laughter floated down the aisle...

She's not afraid to cry

All of her friends called her Nebraska

when she lost speed they roared and asked her

'What is on your mind'?

Did she have permission to play words through her aural memory, she wondered? Would the Questioners take her off for an inquisition? Even that thought did not perturb her now. She was on her way, heading into a southern hemisphere. Far from the green fields and the Troubles. Everything would be different now. Down below in a cold world, far out of reach, ice blazed the last rays of an old day, but she was slipping into another Time. In a midnight twinkle of stars she reached for the cabin bag under her feet; she withdrew the 'Persephone' dossier. Pulling out a sheaf of poems she began to read.

No doubt some interesting Freudian interpretation could be made of these poems, but right now she didn't care. She replaced the sheets in the folder and leaned back in her seat. If she was lucky she might catch some sleep before they landed in Tokyo.

From Crashed, a novel. © Ruth Skilbeck 2011