Leaving On A Jet Plane [FICTOID]

The plane was going down, alarms sounding, passengers screaming, and flight attendant Sally Beringer locked herself in the aft restroom, popping amyl nitrite ampules and praying with Talmudic intensity.

“OhGodohGodohGodpleasesaveme!” she cried, popping another ampule and inhaling deeply.

Her amyl nitrite use and fervent praying pretty much summed up the eternal contradictions in her life, her voracious desire for sensual pleasure on the one hand, her longing for some spiritual connection on the other.

Truth be told, her spiritual longing ran rather shallow.  A genuinely spiritual person would be like her fellow flight attendants, out in the main cabin, futilely trying to comfort terrified passengers in the last few seconds of their lives.

Instead, Sally locked herself in the restroom and devoted her remaining existence to whatever would help her.

“OhGodohGodohGodtakethemallbutjustpleasespareme!” she cried as she popped another ampule.

She liked popping amyl nitrite during sex, it heightened the orgasm for her.  She would have dragged Pierre, a fellow flight attendant she currently nursed the hots for, into the restroom with her for one last go before impact but the rat bastard was comforting passengers.

Besides, he probably couldn’t even get it up under these circumstances, she thought, fumbling in her purse for another ampule.

The restroom felt oddly comforting, reminding her of the confessional she used to visit as a child.  Back then her regular confession was that she had lied during the previous week, the lie being what she told the priest during her last confession.  She was a pretty dull, straight arrow kid until she reached puberty and then rather than think up plausible imaginary sins to tell the priest she simply stopped going to church.

Now she braced herself against the walls of the cramped restroom, preparing herself for the moment of final impact.  “OhGodohGodohGodpleasesaveme!”

The door suddenly yanked open and she blinked at the tall figure standing there.

“Are you an angel?” she asked.

“No, I’m your instructor, you simple minded drug-addled bimbo,” the figure said.  “You’re freaking out on the flight simulator again.”

© Buzz Dixon