It`s time for Tuesday Tales.
Today we have an excerpt from Reflections of Cypress, Love’s Journeys #2.
Please do bear in mind that these snippets are unedited so please be kind if you find any mistakes.
This story may have gay erotic scenes, strong social issues addressed and mature language. If those things offend now is the time to move onto another Tuesday Tales blog. Thanks for stopping by!
The plane rumbled as if running over potholes in the sky. One strong bounce nearly flung me from the crapper. I threw out a hand to steady myself as a series of pings and bing-bongs filled the cabin.
“Hello passengers, this is the pilot. We’re experiencing some rather rowdy turbulence so all passengers are asked to remain in their seats with their seat belts fastened. Flight staff will also be seated until things calm back down. Thank you.”
We hit some pretty nasty air pockets then. I yelped and stumbled out of the bathroom. A flight attendant who was helping an old lady get her belt fastened glared at me then pointed me to my seat with undue haste. Ghana Man had been jostled from his slumber I noted when I flopped down into my narrow seat then hurried to buckle-up.
“Been a long time since I had such a bumpy ride,” he said then fell back asleep as if we weren’t being thrown around like Weebles in a plastic pull-along airplane.
I’d had a Weeble Wobble plane when I was younger. Mom used to play with me on the floor of my nursery for hours, pretending we were the Weebles flying to magical, fantastical places. Places with dragons and elves, monsters and heroes, and of course pirate islands. After a rather nasty jounce up and down, I closed my eyes, cursed my father for making me ride on a packed plane over rough skies, and then let my memories of my mother soothe me as the plane bounced along. Fucking sky pot holes. Nothing about this trip was ever going to be enjoyable. I might as well join a nunnery upon landing and just be done with it. I’d seen The Sound of Music. I could be Maria. Oh, wait, that was Austria and not Italy. Well, I could be Maria in Italy. But that would involve being a nanny for a slew of kids. No thanks, although I was always up for a good-looking older man with a military past. Or a goatherder. I wasn’t pick. Which was why I was on this damned plane to begin with. Maybe I needed to reevaluate the men I hooked up?
No, that was just silly. This was all my father’s fault. I nodded then gulped as we thudded along on God’s heavenly rumble strips.
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