The whirr of the engine increasing in speed. The strange mechanical clicks, whines and creaks. Welcome on board. If I die there will be an extensive investigation. What will that mean for my family. Will they look for blame or put it down to fate. Does that mean the mortgage will be paid off. But life insurance probably won’t cover that. There’ll be an issue with the paperwork. Or a flight exclusion. Imagine being mortgage free. Imagine losing your partner. It’s a close trade off. My daughter wouldn’t know any better. It might hit her when she’s older. Comments in school maybe? Or maybe a new dad - she’d have something to say about that, no doubt. Good luck to him. When does the cabin get pressurised, or depressurised is that a thing? Would he teach her how to tell jokes, how to cook; peel and chop the veg. Maybe she’d cry in that moment thinking about me, and pretend it’s the onions. It must be hard to care about any one individual if you spend all your time looking down from the heavens. Everything is so small. Beautiful but distant. A perfect idea just out of reach. But you can’t see anyone, you can’t understand their lives, the world is too big. No wonder god can be such a prick. If I crash in the sea I’m convinced I’ll survive. You just jump out last minute. Or use the inflatable lifeboat as padding. Or just land like a seaplane. If it’s on land could I time my jump so I hit some bushes or the branches of a tree? Maybe someone trekking will find me half broken but alive and it’ll be this incredible story I tell. Maybe I’ll finally write that book. Or use my jumper as a parachute? Wool and full of holes though. I’ve skydived, it feel like being in a comic book. The land didn’t look real. It didn’t feel real, it felt windy. The falling bit anyway. Once the parachute was open it was great. Very chill. Except the man strapped between my legs. I don’t think my son would take it well. That’s some therapy. It happens all the time. Dead parent. And 5 year olds are apparently very resilient. He wouldn’t seem resilient though. He’d be broken. My Pokemon account will still be active. But it is linked to my hotmail. How long would that stay open till? My wife would know my passwords anyway so that’s fine. She would, well. She, would have to be fine. Limited choice at that point. On the outside, eventually. I should try harder though. You can’t make every day special. I could make more. You can’t be on, all the time. I don’t compliment her enough. I should. I by can’t I be nicer. More considerate. More loving. She is worth complimenting. She is the firewood, and I am the match. No that’s not quite right. She is the match, the spark. I am? I don’t know what I am. The socks drying by the fire? That’s what it feels like sometimes. If I die. I’ll be able to sleep. That’s the one bit I’m looking forward to. Not the terrifying plunge and the burning panic of all the things I’ve never done. The mind numbing terror of being forgotten - just another dot fading from the surface of a revolving rock, slowly being consumed by a burning sun. The knowledge you probably made no positive impact on humanity. Probably. I mean people generally like me. I try to help. And sometimes genuinely am. I did volunteer in Ghana don’t you know. But at least I’ll get some rest. The cabin light for turbulence is pinging again. Does that hostess look worried?