Tuesday, 30 August 2011

Writing Prompts: The Ten Dos and Donts of Airplanes Etiquette

Hosted by Mama's Losin' It!

In an attempt to kick-start my writing once more, I'm joining in with the 'Writing Prompts' meme for the first time this week. I've chosen option 5, to write about the dos and don'ts of airplane etiquette. Those of you who know me will not be surprised to know that I've written a short fiction piece for this purpose.

Buffetted in the waves, Dave began to taste the tuna that he had mistakenly consumed before boarding. In his drowsy state, he began to imagine the plane falling to meet his stomach way below them. Touching the deep below, a baby screamed out for rescue, as the water crashed against his stiffened back.

As he pulled his sticky eyelids apart, he returned to a fuzzy reality once more. "We apologize for the turbulance" announced a strangeled voice above him, "We have now descended to a lower level, and expect a clear sky for the rest of our journey".

Rising instantly after the words came the noise of a fighter plane approaching Dave's rear. Each shot rocketed his body forwards as it pelted into the small of his back. He turned as took a sly, yet pearcing glance at the child who sat engrossed in his video game. His mother, oblivious of the boy's actions, desperatly attempted to calm his young sister.

Dave sighed and, returning to his aquired position, tried to make himself just a little bit more at home. By leaning forward just an inch he was able to reach the inflight magazine. Just an inch the other direction and he was back at 45 degrees once more. Wishing he was able to lean back, Dave opened the glossy cover and began to read.

Soon he found himself on a tropical island. The sun beat down on him and, in the distance, waves lapped upon a sparkling shoreline. Dave rested his back upon a palm tree, as the birds serenaded him to sleep. A steel-band's gentle melodies assisted him to drift off into what felt like an everlasting rest. That was before they upped their tempo.

The drums began louder, deeper and suddenly gained a bass. The island disappeared, as Dave felt the air stiffle and the heat become stuffy. He put his hands over his ears and tried to curl up, but the grip of his seatbelt forced him back to reality. Dave picked up the magazine and turned the page. He sighed as he searched for another article that might bring back his sanity.

"Would you like a drink sir?" interrupted the flight attendent.
"No thanks" Dave muttered, trying to wish away the real world.
"Chicken or beef?" the attendant continued.
"Neither thanks" he replied.

Silence restored, Dave breathed once more. He was grateful he hadn't bothered with a meal when the seat ifront of him hit his knees. He was not as grateful about the gift he had received- a bruised kneecap! Stuffing the magazine onto his lap, Dave leant forwards as his seat went back. The seatbelt pulled, but finally released him to peep at the muscles of the man infront. Dave meekly leant back once more, noting how he could finally get into some sort of sleeping position. He closed his eyes and tried to return to his dreams.

He awoke suddenly to something, or someone, poking him.
"Duty free sir?" said the attendant, as the men between them looked on impatiently.
It took a little while for Dave to responded. "Ummmm, not today" he yawned, closing his eyes once more.

Dave peacefully drifted down a river, as the wind caressed his face. Either side of him, trees swayed gently in the breeze. On the river bank he spotted a family of beavers, their chewing floating across to him as they worked together to form their new home. He watched as they felled one of the tall trunks and heard the splash as it hit the waters below. It was then that the boat capsized.

It tipped back, as something landed on his stomach. Dave awoke with a start and jumped up from his seat, fighted off the tray infront even as he battled with his restraint.
"What the F****K!" he shouted
The plane turned towards him, but Dave hardly noticed as he threw the magazine from his soaked jeans onto the floor.
"Enough's enough!" he belted, as an attendent approached.
"You!", he turned on those behind, "as if the constant bawling wasn't enough, I have to put up with gun fights as well. Not to mention the kicks I've enjoyed courtesy of your overactive legs!"
"Now sir......" the attendant began.
Ignoring him, Dave turned to the front, "And you! Where did you learn to eat! Do you have some need that I have to hear what you're eating? Do you gain some enjoyment from squashing me against my seat?"
"Now sir, if you don't desist we'll be forced to have you removed....."
Dave turned on the interrupter, "Now you decide to act! I have to tolerate all these rude people and now you have the nerve to tell me to 'desist'" At this point Dave wiggled his fingers in the air, as if physically adding the speech marks around his words. "At what point were you made judge and jury?! You're just as bad, trying to force feed a man, making him spend his money on useless tat!

Dave never got to Alcapolco! As he was escorted off the plane, the man next to him passed down his bags to the attendant. The boy from behind watched, his head hanging down. As he looked up, Dave almost thought he saw a glance of apology.

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