Uncultured
Dreamer/Cynic
The clouds were beautiful, and they were stunning, a clear white that seemed almost too vivid and clean to be created by nature itself, and even though they seemed painted onto the canvas that was the sky they were the most real things the captain ever saw these days, when he looked upon them he became more uplifted than he ever had felt in his years attending church with his religious ex wife or the time he spent at the VA listening to the motivational speakers and preachers who visited to fulfill their pro-bono assignments, because this view was real, more real than any word spoken from the pulpit of a self proclaimed holy man or a motivational speaker sent to pacify the anger of the injured vets who stewed in the underfunded veteran hospitals, for unlike those things, this was real and it was his.
The clouds and the sea from above, if one thing could be said for them, it was that they were profound. No matter how many times Captain Widdiker saw the world from thirty thousand feet he was still awed by its beauty, by its purity and by its danger, for one wrong slip, one moving part failure, one spark, could send the entire plane down towards the ocean at a pace of four hundred miles an hour to be pulverized on the surface of the ocean. It was a sobering thought, the kind that the captain often thought of while sitting drunker than a sailor at a bar stool in any number of cities that weren't his own. The captain had done so the night before the flight, the night before he was scheduled to transport over one hundred people across the ocean in a plane moving four hundred miles per hour he had been at a bar, and he had drunk his weight in liquor before passing out at his hotel. It would be debatable if he were fit to drive a taxi in his state, but he had done it before, more times than he was willing to count, and he choked back a chuckle as he thought about the pathetic and selfish nature of his actions, for he had grown so used to them that they had become amusing in a self depreciating sort of way. No matter how much the captain enjoyed flying, the one thing he really enjoyed was drinking.
In contrast to the old alcoholic pilot who sat with his eyes half shut at the controls his co pilot was some rookie, some clean coat type, the kind that came in every day with his shirt ironed and his top button tucked in its hole even if no one could see it underneath his tie. He would change though, with time they always did, the twenty year veteran had seen it all before, hell, it had happened to him. The biggest reason why the captain didn't like his rookie co pilot was just how much he reminded the captain of himself. There had been a time when he had been the rookie with under five hundred paid hours in the air. It was like looking in a mirror every time his saw the kids clean cut face.
Before the captain could continue his hungover thoughts a beeping began to emit from the console of the plane, the rookie darted his head around rapidly, searching for the blinker that would indicate what part of the plane was malfunctioning, and while the rookie did so, the captain smiled and laughed as he stared down the reduce air speed blinker on the bottom right hand of the control console. "Relax kid, reduce air speed is all, nothin to sweat over probably a bum sensor" said the captain in a slow relaxed tone indicative of his mind state.
Then, before the co pilot could respond, another light began to blink, and then another, and another and within the span of ten seconds the plane began to leer to one side as the hydraulics of the plane began to fail, as the ship leered violently to one side one of the engines failed and then another and another, leaving only one functioning engine. If it had simply been one or two engines it would have been one thing, if it had simply been the hydraulics it would have been dangerous but perhaps the old captain would have been able to right the ship, but it was the perfect storm, and soon the plane was violently barreling towards the surface of the earth.
As the plane descended it split into two pieces, the front and the back of the plane became separated and each fell to the surface of a large island, one that had never been charted by any explorer in the modern or the ages of old. It was an island shrouded in mystery and in death, and although the plane crash looked violent and destructive there was a chance that there would be survivors and somewhere on the island someone else was thinking the same thing.
The clouds and the sea from above, if one thing could be said for them, it was that they were profound. No matter how many times Captain Widdiker saw the world from thirty thousand feet he was still awed by its beauty, by its purity and by its danger, for one wrong slip, one moving part failure, one spark, could send the entire plane down towards the ocean at a pace of four hundred miles an hour to be pulverized on the surface of the ocean. It was a sobering thought, the kind that the captain often thought of while sitting drunker than a sailor at a bar stool in any number of cities that weren't his own. The captain had done so the night before the flight, the night before he was scheduled to transport over one hundred people across the ocean in a plane moving four hundred miles per hour he had been at a bar, and he had drunk his weight in liquor before passing out at his hotel. It would be debatable if he were fit to drive a taxi in his state, but he had done it before, more times than he was willing to count, and he choked back a chuckle as he thought about the pathetic and selfish nature of his actions, for he had grown so used to them that they had become amusing in a self depreciating sort of way. No matter how much the captain enjoyed flying, the one thing he really enjoyed was drinking.
In contrast to the old alcoholic pilot who sat with his eyes half shut at the controls his co pilot was some rookie, some clean coat type, the kind that came in every day with his shirt ironed and his top button tucked in its hole even if no one could see it underneath his tie. He would change though, with time they always did, the twenty year veteran had seen it all before, hell, it had happened to him. The biggest reason why the captain didn't like his rookie co pilot was just how much he reminded the captain of himself. There had been a time when he had been the rookie with under five hundred paid hours in the air. It was like looking in a mirror every time his saw the kids clean cut face.
Before the captain could continue his hungover thoughts a beeping began to emit from the console of the plane, the rookie darted his head around rapidly, searching for the blinker that would indicate what part of the plane was malfunctioning, and while the rookie did so, the captain smiled and laughed as he stared down the reduce air speed blinker on the bottom right hand of the control console. "Relax kid, reduce air speed is all, nothin to sweat over probably a bum sensor" said the captain in a slow relaxed tone indicative of his mind state.
Then, before the co pilot could respond, another light began to blink, and then another, and another and within the span of ten seconds the plane began to leer to one side as the hydraulics of the plane began to fail, as the ship leered violently to one side one of the engines failed and then another and another, leaving only one functioning engine. If it had simply been one or two engines it would have been one thing, if it had simply been the hydraulics it would have been dangerous but perhaps the old captain would have been able to right the ship, but it was the perfect storm, and soon the plane was violently barreling towards the surface of the earth.
As the plane descended it split into two pieces, the front and the back of the plane became separated and each fell to the surface of a large island, one that had never been charted by any explorer in the modern or the ages of old. It was an island shrouded in mystery and in death, and although the plane crash looked violent and destructive there was a chance that there would be survivors and somewhere on the island someone else was thinking the same thing.
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