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

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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!