The Pilot’s Plight
March 31, 2008
It was a deep gash, open, letting the air nip at his heart and into the soul every time his natural intake of breath would pull at the wound. The swarms of commuters passing by ignored his plight, seemingly unaware of the extent of damage he had endured or even that he was hurt at all.
Unable to make the trip to work, incapable of returning home. Stuck, wishing for Virgil to guide him, seeing nothing but a glimpse of blood, boiling in the distance.
A quick prayer to the Saint falls on dead ears. The Rosary, with forgotten mysteries, fails him as the gods send a mirthful laugh that only he can recognize. Tomorrow’s child will feel his grief, but there is no word to warn it.
Image courtesy of Queen of the Universe. Used by permission.
