It was a perfect day. The sky the deepest blue it could be, cloudless, the sun warming the tarmac just enough to make the day pleasant and not chilly.
I looked at Morgan. I’d named her after my one-and-only; I’d lost her namesake a few years back, but I still had the jet. Hadn’t flown in a while. Wouldn’t again, after today.
There was probably a cure, somewhere. I didn’t need it. I needed to fly again, before they said I couldn’t. And when I decided it was time…
…well, the Pacific was right there.
Word Count: 95
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly blog hop hosted by Rochelle. She posts a photo prompt then challenges readers to write a 100 word story inspired by the prompt. It’s a fun challenge. Give it a try! Check here for the info then write your story and post it, link up and enjoy the other stories!