Take-off

The gentle whine quickly transformed into a storm of loud, deep, thunderous rumbling. The empty bottle of ketchup we were in was being shook for every last drop. Everyone went silent, even a crying child paused in awe. Several people blessed themselves, others held on with white knuckles but I was enjoying every second of this. Through the dim cabin lighting I could see the storage compartments over the centre isle shaking as though a swarm of bees was trying to escape from inside. The warm smell of airline fuel mingled with the cool recycled air to create a cocktail that numbed the nerves in my nostrils. I felt a tingle as a sheet of cool air glided down my arms. I reached up and closed the air vent above my head. My thumb sat naturally in the silver disk as I checked my seatback was in the upright position. The cool metal created a brief loss of feeling in the tip of my thumb, habitually I opened the ashtray beside me. Having discovered nothing but a dull grey interior, I snapped it shut, the click barely audible due to the intense bumble of the engines drowning out all other sounds. I gazed out the window, then at the tiny circular hole in the window and once again, back outside. As the plane began to accelerate down the runway, single blades of grass merged into a continuous green blur. My seat forced its way into my back, my pulse increased, my feet found a new position on the worm carpeted floor. Then the plane gently lifted off the ground, I was wedged into my seat like a doorstep unable to pull myself forward. The bees above the centre isle had escaped, after the landing gear had retracted, the storm settled while the monotonous hum of the engines remained.