Flight 887 from Toronto's Pearson airport to Heathrow, London, was on schedule. Boarding had no delays, and the weather was clear for liftoff. Luggage was loaded, seats were filled and all was well as the airplane departed on its journey. A humble yet filling meal was offered to the passengers, and then the lights were dimmed. All was peaceful.
About 3 hours into the flight, the plane began to descend prematurely. It was not so sharp to wake most sleepers, but the steady decline was enough to shift the weight of gravity. The seatbelt sign was illuminated, but no announcement from the pilot was made. Those who awoke found that no flight attendant could answer the question of what was going on. The pilots were unresponsive.
Someone tried to open the cockpit, but the locked door did not budge. It was then that the overhead speakers of the plane made its announcement. A grating, garbled mess of incoherent words rippled through the speakers. Lights flickered and then went out, even the blinking navigation lights at the tip of each plane-wing. The engines were soon to follow, and the instant swap from roaring hum to silence left a void of sound. At least, for a moment.
Turbulence hit, jarring all but those who had obeyed the seatbelt sign. Windows rattled, luggage fell from above, and panic began to set in. The only thing that could be seen outside the window was darkness and the hazy clouds they drifted through.
Being only half-way through the flight, it seemed that they were locked in a metal cabin and doomed to a very long drop into the Atlantic Ocean, but strangely enough it was not ocean that they spotted first in the clouds, but trees. Even stranger was that they appeared only a mere few minutes into the descent.
Tall pines smacked against the plane’s wings, snapping and swaying as one by one they were flattened by the gliding airplane. Shattered remnants of branches scratched and smacked against the windows, cracking a few of them, but not enough to shatter. Canopy turned to branches, which turned to trunk, and it was not long before the plane touched ground.
------
When you awoke, you would find that the once crowded plane was now empty save for a few passengers. Parts of the cabin had been torn apart, and one of the wings had been fully severed. Tree branches reached over the broken roof, blotting out a dark, starless sky. Considering the state of the place, the fact that you survived at all was a miracle, especially completely unscathed as you were. All that lingered was some bruises and a headache.
You were free to crawl from the rubble.
A deep, dark wood surrounded the plane, tall pines huddled together as if in scheme. Below, the forest dirt had been dredged up and trees had been uprooted and flattened. It made the air thick with the scent of rotted leaves and sap. A heavy fog obscured the edges of this makeshift clearing, softening the edge of night that pressed down on all sides.
The only thing to break through the foggy night was a faint light in the distance, filtering through the branches. Was it a glimmer of hope or a lure to doom? Who could say. There were many questions, and only one way to find answers..
About 3 hours into the flight, the plane began to descend prematurely. It was not so sharp to wake most sleepers, but the steady decline was enough to shift the weight of gravity. The seatbelt sign was illuminated, but no announcement from the pilot was made. Those who awoke found that no flight attendant could answer the question of what was going on. The pilots were unresponsive.
Someone tried to open the cockpit, but the locked door did not budge. It was then that the overhead speakers of the plane made its announcement. A grating, garbled mess of incoherent words rippled through the speakers. Lights flickered and then went out, even the blinking navigation lights at the tip of each plane-wing. The engines were soon to follow, and the instant swap from roaring hum to silence left a void of sound. At least, for a moment.
Turbulence hit, jarring all but those who had obeyed the seatbelt sign. Windows rattled, luggage fell from above, and panic began to set in. The only thing that could be seen outside the window was darkness and the hazy clouds they drifted through.
Being only half-way through the flight, it seemed that they were locked in a metal cabin and doomed to a very long drop into the Atlantic Ocean, but strangely enough it was not ocean that they spotted first in the clouds, but trees. Even stranger was that they appeared only a mere few minutes into the descent.
Tall pines smacked against the plane’s wings, snapping and swaying as one by one they were flattened by the gliding airplane. Shattered remnants of branches scratched and smacked against the windows, cracking a few of them, but not enough to shatter. Canopy turned to branches, which turned to trunk, and it was not long before the plane touched ground.
------
When you awoke, you would find that the once crowded plane was now empty save for a few passengers. Parts of the cabin had been torn apart, and one of the wings had been fully severed. Tree branches reached over the broken roof, blotting out a dark, starless sky. Considering the state of the place, the fact that you survived at all was a miracle, especially completely unscathed as you were. All that lingered was some bruises and a headache.
You were free to crawl from the rubble.
A deep, dark wood surrounded the plane, tall pines huddled together as if in scheme. Below, the forest dirt had been dredged up and trees had been uprooted and flattened. It made the air thick with the scent of rotted leaves and sap. A heavy fog obscured the edges of this makeshift clearing, softening the edge of night that pressed down on all sides.
The only thing to break through the foggy night was a faint light in the distance, filtering through the branches. Was it a glimmer of hope or a lure to doom? Who could say. There were many questions, and only one way to find answers..