Fly Boy
Vida Janulaitis

I could literally pick my jobs as I wanted, the problem is when you're short of cash you've got no choice, you pick them all. The crop dusting kept me busy enough so I could pay my bills. Up there, close to my piece of heaven, I'd play the tunes so loud I couldn't tell the music from black or white. I didn't really care, others only saw black. Pity, what a dark soul they possess.

Hah! That's sure funny, if you all get it.

I remember when that drunken fool of idiots came to me asking if I was interested in a charter flight. Never thought about it, but I knew I was destined for better things then crop dusting, so I asked, "How much you paying?"

All I remember is them offering this ridiculous amount of money, to fly from place to place. Hell, if they asked nice, I would've done it for free. I kept thinking there's something wrong here. Before answering I checked the weather reports, noticed storm warnings ahead, and told them no one's flying tonight.

Sure enough didn't I get cussed at, "gum up boy, don't hide behind your mama's apron strings."

But my plane is my heart, my soul mate. She told me not to fly. Two months later I heard Buddy and his friend Holly found someone without a soul mate and crashed in Iowa.

I still fly listening to the music that never dies.


First published: May, 2003
comments: knobs@iceflow.com