INTERCEPTION: ONLY LOVE MATTERS - ALTERNATE

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Intercept ion: In Love We Trust

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A mini-romance.

Written by Allan Jon Kretzmar, JD

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LOVE ENTWINED Two lives that came together Lucky in love with a twist of fate From a chance meeting That we cannot forget The time had come Paths that intersect Mining destiny For topaz in your eyes I thought that all was lost Washed away in a dream Across the dimension You met my needs I want to see you Leave the past in shreds But nothing can tear apart A love so entwined Eclipse the sun with the moon The darkness will not last The brightness of your soul Cascading down to me Our connection is forever I feel you here now As we are ready To unravel mystery

by Chris Steven Young

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Heathrow Airport London, England

Elizabeth, excited, yet petrified , thought this was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime. Drew sent airplane tickets to Hawaii for his graduation.

After his parents died in a horrendous car accident, she stepped in to help by regularly sending her nephew money for his education. He is an outstanding young man, she thought, completing his studies, nor dropping out or falling in with a bad crowd. The tragedy sobered him, making him a man overnight, with a lot of adult responsibility.

Bundling under the thick New Zealand wool blanket, she peered out at the tarmac with the giant 757 staring back in the sleet and hail. The Commodore Airlines logo emblazoned on tail, the plane seemed oversized and grotesque. Her mind wondered how so heavy a monstrosity could hurtle itself into the clouds and propel her literally across the world.

Elizabeth hated flying, but did not want to tell this to Drew. After all, when he called a few weeks before, she remembered their conversation vividly.

“Auntie Liz,” he said, “I don’t want to hear another world from you! I am sending you the plane ticket, and all I want to hear is a ‘definite yes’ you are coming to my graduation! You have helped me through the years, and

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paid for it, I want you to come as my guest and see that your investment has paid off!”

“Of course, it has,” she answered, “Nothing could make me prouder, and I will be there.”

“The weather is great here, I bet you will even be surfing knowing your energy!”

Elizabeth laughed, “Yeah right, there is not a snowball’s hope of that.” Inwardly, she felt all the muscles in her stomach tighten. She did not want to tell him about her knee surgery.

“If I don’t come back,” Frederick, her husband, had told her, “make sure that you look after the kids. Tell them everything will be all right.”

Those were the last words she heard from him, before he left on his last tour.

Frederick never returned from a military mission, and could never get over the dread and foreboding the mere thought of planes evoked. Elizabeth also hated flying, even detested it.

Stop, Frederick, she thought, don’t allow yourself to think negative thoughts like that.

Those thoughts became a living nightmare when she was told by the wing commander Frederick’s plane did not return after a sortie. “Don’t worry,” he told her, “there is still a chance his plane was not shot down, and 6

that the crew parachuted to safety. The plane was never shot at from the ground, and no wreckage was recovered. Be strong. Perhaps Frederick made it through. We have to wait and see.”

The waiting turned from days into weeks, to months, finally to years.

Frederick never returned.

Her sense of sadness and loneliness was indescribable. It pursued her like a cloud. In fact, depression became her friend. The dark days were “her” dark days, and the cloud of melancholy that surrounded her belonged to her too. She was proud of owning them, and they became so familiar she hated when sunlight broke through the drab English gray days.

When cheery rays tried to break through to bring a glimmer of hope, Elizabeth drew the drapes shut tight in her tiny flat on Devonshire Road. She reared the boys, and they grew up and left. She was used to living alone now. There was a hand-colored picture of Frederick on the dining room table, wearing his airman’s uniform. He looked so handsome, she thought, especially the way his cap was set to a rakish angle, and she loved his pencil-thin moustache, “He looks like a movie star!” she told friends and visitors. Over the years the photograph discolored, and at the ends of the white paper yellowed. Not only had the picture frame turned from white to beige, but the picture looked water soiled. “I bet those are my tears,” she always said if anyone asked her. Over time, there were fewer and fewer visitors, eventually no-one asked.

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Elizabeth never remarried. “No-one can give me what I got from Frederick, so why should I even try.” She talked herself out of every possible man that wanted to meet her. There were a million reasons why she did not want to meet them before she met them for a cup of tea, followed by another million why she would never see them again after the tea.

Drew was her life blood, her only connection with something living rather than someone who was in all probability dead. Elizabeth vehemently clung to the hope that Frederick parachuted to safety with his crew, was captured, freed, and maybe someday she would see him again. Somewhere, somehow, she would feel his arms around her, and he would say to her like he always did, that everything would be “all right” in his deep, comforting, and gravelly voice.

Tonight it was raining and the conditions outside the airport were miserable. Elizabeth sat in front of the huge windows, where her plane with it’s steel-wings and glass cockpit was parked. She just stared at the plane, and the plane just stared back without feeling or emotion. The rain and snow were relentless, and she wondered how in the world could they take off and land in such miserable weather. She had tried to talk Drew out of sending her the plane tickets during several subsequent phone conversations, but he was quite adamant. He could be as headstrong as she was.

“Aunt Liz,” he insisted, “you have to see me graduate, you just have to! Besides, this is a paradise, you have never been to Maui, and it really is as if God sliced off a piece of Heaven and made it into an island, you will

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see. Plus I promise in a week you will be more refreshed than you have ever been.”

Finally Elizabeth gave up resisting. She paid for his tuition all through college, and this was her chance to see the happiness in his face. She knew he appreciated all she did, and it would be wonderful to vicariously experience his sense of fulfillment. Her faith and belief in him would now be realized.

So “Aunt Liz” found herself at Heathrow Airport in a blizzard, and feeling uneasy. The sun now set turned the sky from light gray to pitch black. The windows were being continually pelted by raindrops, and the crew on the ground were frustrated preparing the craft to take flight in the sleet and the hail. “Brrrrr,” she shuddered just looking at them, I would hate to be out there in that rain, even if it was my job, she thought.

Her plane had been delayed for two hours more. They found ice on the wings, the passengers were told, and the ground crew were pouring hot water over the wings to melt the ice so that the flaps could open and close. Goodness, she thought, I feel like just not going up in this mess.

She peered into the darkness, everything was so black she could not see anything, until a flash of lightening illuminated the sky, if for a silvery instant.

The only lights she could discern were the lights ahead in the pilots cabin, illuminated like the sunken eyes of a skull. She shivered in the cold lobby, and pulled the blanket tighter around her.

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She had tried to play a round of Solitaire earlier, but the card game could not stop continuing thoughts of dread and foreboding. Even a cup of the elixir of life -- English tea -- could do little to snap her out of her all too familiar comforting friend -- her depression – and her rain clouds.

She looked about at the her fellow passengers. They did not seem to have the same sense of dread she did for the upcoming transatlantic voyage.

Kids were running along the walkways, and parents were slumped, tired of answering incessant questions when the plane would actually take off posed by their children.

It was not that late in the afternoon, but the weather and the darkness made it seem that they were about to fly at night over the Bermuda Triangle.

God, Elizabeth thought, I better stop with these dark thoughts -- people travel in droves daily -- in fact the skies are filled with planes traveling from cities and countries, all departing and arriving safely. Soon I will be leaving a cold climate, and exchanging it for one that is nice and hot. I am lucky to be going to Drew’s graduation, so I should dispel dark thoughts.

However, try as she might, there was nothing she could do. A magnetic field seemed to pull the dark clouds back over her head. In fact she wondered what she would do if she looked up and could not find her metaphorical rain cloud over her head. She retreated further into her chair.

I will just have to take my cloud with me, she thought, we will go to Hawaii together then. This gave her scant comfort.

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A voice crackled over the loudspeakers – an “update” – another hour delay – a collective groan from all those around her, and she felt her stomach tighten again into a few more knots. This is becoming unbelievable, she thought. The crackling voice said the airline would ensure passengers needing help would be boarded first. Crew members would be circulating in the lobby, making sure that everyone was comfortable.

“Ah Mom, do we have to wait? Why can’t we leave?” She heard a youngster ask her parents, who seemed war weary from dealing with the delays and the incessant nagging of the kids. “I don’t know!” came the reply, “Read your book and be quiet.”

It was then that Elizabeth felt a soft hand on her shoulder. She was by then half-asleep, still drowsy, so she did not respond at first. A flight attendant was standing over her. “Hi love, I’m Zara Jane, and I just checking in with you. Is everything all right?” Elizabeth looked up and stared at the flight attendant who was gently rubbing her shoulder.

“Um, yes, dear,” she stuttered.

The flight attendant was tall, shapely, and immaculately dressed in the Commodore Airlines uniform. She had long black hair, pulled back into a pony tail. The uniform was a dark navy blue, and she had a red and blue scarf tied around her neck.

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“Good,” came the response, “We will be ready in a while I am sure. I will come back to check on you.” She smiled.

Elizabeth looked at the flight attendant who was standing over, and found something very comforting in her soft and soothing voice. But there was something other things about this young woman that left Elizabeth mesmerized. Firstly there was something about her smile -- it was as if she was shy, and was ashamed to smile -- but when she did she had the most amazing wide and white-toothed smile. Secondly, there was something about her eyes that caught her attention -- they were golden-yellow, and had a strange glow. The pupils were also large and cat-like, but this was something that Elizabeth remembered hours later. Many hours later.

Elizabeth was clutching her flight card with white knuckled intensity, and this caught Zara Jane’s attention.

“Can I look at your boarding pass?”

“Yes, why, is anything the matter?”

“No, nothing is the matter. Everything will be all right.”

Elizabeth shuddered when she heard that comment, That is just what Frederick used to say, she suddenly realized, how strange.

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Elizabeth stared at the woman that was standing in front of her. The flight attendant realized that she must have been towering over her, so she kneeled down in front of her.

“Your boarding pass is fine,” she said, smiled a shy smile, and stood up again, patting Elizabeth reassuringly on the shoulder.

Half and hour passed with agonizing slowness, and as promised Zara Jane attendant returned, this time with a message.

“Love, you have a phone call! The gentleman called us wanting to talk to you before your flight left, and actually was very insistent. The phone is in the VIP Lounge, and I will take you there if you like.”

“Is it Drew?” Did Drew call me?” Elizabeth was panicking, and the look on her face must have been noticed by her new found friend.

“No, his name was not Drew,” she told her, “come along my dear, I will walk with you to the Lounge.”

Elizabeth struggled up, dropping her blanket around her. Zara Jane picked up the blanket, and placed it reassuringly over Elizabeth’s shoulders.

Elizabeth and Zara Jane made there way through the crowded terminal, having to dodge strewn luggage, stretched out legs, and running children. It was a strange human obstacle course, and Elizabeth did not

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enjoy the walk. She had had knee surgery a few weeks before, and this meant that she was not very stable on her legs.

“It is far?”

“No, dear, it is just up ahead. Look can you see the white paneled glass over there?” Zara Jane pointed a well-manicured hand up ahead.

Elizabeth tried to stare and look ahead, but she did not have her distance glasses on and did not want to have to scratch to find them in her purse, which she clutched to her chest under the blanket.

Finally they found themselves in front of the white glass paneled door which had carved into the glass a relief of a large jetliner, and “Commodore Airlines VIP Lounge.” The doors slid open breathlessly upon their arrival.

“You never told me who telephoned me?”

“Oh, I have it on my paper,” Zara Jane pulled a piece of paper from her pocket, and held it in front of her, “It’s a long-distance call we know that.”

“From Hawaii?”

“No, not from there, he did not say where he was calling from. But he did say he had to talk to you before you took off. He was insistent that he speak to you! Sorry, no name.” Zara Jane smiled, and her eyes flashed 14

brighter, “But here is the phone.” She pushed a red phone receiver into Elizabeth’s clammy hand.

Elizabeth was already unsteady on her feet, and the phone call threw her into total confusion. She felt her heart begin to pound with a fury and intensity that she had not felt in a long time. Years in fact.

Elizabeth could not reach for the phone. She was too stunned to know what to do. Her hand would not follow the command of her brain.

“Here my dear, he said it was an important call,” Zara Jane said, but Elizabeth was admiring how flawless Zara Jane’s skin was. It seemed like it was carved out of marble, Elizabeth would say later, polished marble in fact.

Elizabeth did not know what to do. Take the receiver. Or not. She was stunned. She felt a reassuring arm around her shoulders. “He said everything will be all right. He did I swear,” and Zara Jane flashed a flawless smile.

“Hello?” Elizabeth said timidly, taking the receiver, then realized she had held it down.

“Hello?” she said again in barely a whisper, her heart pounding louder in her chest.

Elizabeth strained to hear the voice on the other line. “Hello, Liz. Liz?” 15

“Who is this?”

There was a muffled sound at the end of the phone, but nothing that she could make out or understand.

Elizabeth swung around, but her beautiful flight attendant was nowhere to be seen. She looked to her left, then to her right. Zara Jane was tall, so Elizabeth was sure that would be able to spot her in the crowded room, but she could not spot her anywhere.

“It’s Frederick. Liz, listen to me!”

“Hello? Who? Frederick? Is this some kind of sick joke? Who are you?”

“It’s Frederick, honey – listen to me!”

Elizabeth tried again to hear clearly what the person at the other end of the line was saying.

“What did you say your name was? Drew, is that you playing a joke?”

“Liz, it’s Frederick – you have to listen to me!”

“Oh God,” she suddenly thought, “I hope I don’t miss my plane on account of this hoax!”

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Panicked, Elizabeth dropped the red handset, leaving it dangling.

“Liz?” came the voice at the other end. “Liz. I have to talk to you!”

The voice crackled in the receiver. “Liz!”

In a complete panic Elizabeth rushed out of the VIP Lounge. One passenger had left his briefcase and laptop in the walkway, and Elizabeth was oblivious to anything other than making her way to her gate, if she could even find it now.

A briefcase obstructed her way forward, and in an uncommonly aggressive move, especially as a lady reared with proper manners, Elizabeth kicked the case out of her path, and hurried along.

“Hey, fuck you lady!” came the response from an American traveler from across the pond, “You kicked my briefcase. There is an expensive laptop in there!”

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder, and in an equally un-culturally aggressive move said to the traveler, “Then you should have moved it in time, buddy!” placing a special sarcastic emphasis on the word “Buddy.”

The overweight tourist tried to get up, but struggled to get out of his comfortable red-leather chair. He was livid and wanted to come after her, but decided to retrieve his laptop first. Elizabeth hobbled to the door.

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Thankfully, it whooshed open to let her out, and she escaped back into the main terminal.

Elizabeth looked left, then right. It seemed that the lobby was even more crowded than it had been before Zara Jane came to get her on what she considered her wild and unhelpful phone call trip. Elizabeth felt scared, and quite frankly, just plain agitated. She faced a labyrinth of legs, children’s toys, running children, and strewn about luggage.

God, let me make my flight! Drew will be so disappointed, she thought, redoubling her efforts to get to her gate, then she realized she really could not move at a pace much beyond a wobbly walk. Oh God, my knee is really starting to hurt, I have to stop, Oh my, it really hurts, she thought. She stopped, rubbing her left knee.

As she turned around, and saw the American traveler had exited the VIP Lounge, and was looking around for her. It seemed that he had not been satisfied with her “buddy” comment, and was determined to seek some kind of retribution for her kicking his briefcase. I hope I did not ruin his laptop, she thought. I must have kicked his case with more force that I realized. I guess that I kicked his case with my good leg! She smiled to herself, and panicked, continued her wobbly quest to find her gate.

“Oh, young man,” she asked, “Can you felt me find my gate number?” She pushed her boarding pass in front of a man, who walked around her, pretending not to hear what she asked.

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Finally, she saw a Commodore Airlines employee, who stopped, and looked at her boarding pass. “It is flight 315, it leaves from gate 85, just up ahead and to the right. But I think they boarded already ten minutes ago.”

Elizabeth felt her chest tighten, “Oh, God, no!”

Elizabeth finally reached the gate in a panic. There was no queue of people, and this Elizabeth felt was not a good sign. Not a good sign at all.

“Here is my boarding pass,” she screeched, “I was told I had a telephone call. I went there to the VIP Lounge,” she said breathlessly, “and then when I got there, there was no phone call. She made me miss my flight.”

Elizabeth tried to catch her breath. “It was one of your Commodore Airlines flight attendants.”

The new flight attendant nodded, signaling understanding, but shrugged. “I am so sorry, my dear, your plane has already taxied to the runway. You missed your flight!”

The flight attendant pointed out into the blackness, “Look,” she pointed a well-manicured hand, “There it is, it will be airborne in about three minutes. I am so sorry. Who did you say the flight attendant was?”

“Um, her name was unusual, so I remembered it. It was ‘Zara,’ and something like ‘James’ I think, yes, something like that. ‘Zara James’ I think. She said I got a call and that I had to take it in the VIP Lounge. If I did not leave when I did,” Elizabeth said, fighting back tears, “I would not have 19

missed my flight.” She struggled to regain her breath. “Damnation!”

Elizabeth was surprised at the depth of her emotions elicited by the “incident.”

“Drew will be so disappointed. Plus my suitcase is on the plane. Oh my God what am I to do now?” she asked the flight attendant.

“Don’t worry,” said the flight attendant, “This was the last flight for today. We will put you up at a hotel overnight. You can catch a flight tomorrow. After you have enjoyed an English breakfast, or course.

Everything will be all right!” the flight attendant said with genuine feeling and emotion, “There is no need to be so upset.”

Elizabeth seemed momentarily comforted, but she still felt outrage at this sudden and unexpected turn of events. This was not the way that she imagined that she would be celebrating Drew’s graduation.

Finally she was bundled into a taxi, which brought her to a Hotel close to the airport. Toiletries had been provided for her, and Amanda the flight attendant even provided her with a Commodore Airlines uniform, since that was all she had as a change of clothing as they were approximately the same height. Elizabeth’s suitcase was already on the departed plane. The flight attendant uniform was small comfort to Liz, but what else could she do she thought, under these circumstances? Better a fresh set of clothes than none at all.

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Elizabeth could not fall asleep. She was worried, her mind racing a million miles a minute. Why did he say “Frederick” on the phone, she wondered, and who would play so cruel a joke on her? Was this some college prank that Drew thought up? After all she did for him? No, could not be Drew, she thought, he would never do anything like that to me, never in a million lifetimes, after all I have done for him.”

Elizabeth tossed and turned all night long, her room was icy cold.

There was no heat as the pipes in the heating system had frozen over. God, when I find that Zara Jane, she thought, I will tell her what she did -- that stupid prank cost me my flight.

Elizabeth realized her fear of flying caused her to ask Drew to book a flight that would land in Honolulu on the same day as his graduation. She should have arranged to arrive a few days before graduation, but fear made her not want to be on a plane for a minute longer than she necessary. Now she would miss his graduation ceremony completely.

In the morning, Elizabeth took her usual bath, although she grumbled that the water was not hot enough. She put on the flight attendant uniform, the only clothing available to her, and when she went down to breakfast felt certain that everyone in the dining room was staring at her. This adds insult to injury, she thought.

When she made her way to a table to have breakfast, she heard an American tourist say to his wife, “We must be in the bed and breakfast that all the Commodore Airlines flight attendants stay in.”

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“Yes dear,” was the response.

Elizabeth ordered hot tea, sausages and eggs extra runny, and looked around the room. She saw her reflection in the mirror, realizing that she looked pretty good in the uniform. She looked like a flight attendant! Oh, God, she thought, what if they ask me for flight or airport information?

She looked at the couple behind her. The man was reading the morning “Sun” newspaper. Elizabeth read the banner headline, and dropped her tea cup. The cup dropped onto the saucer, then to the floor, shattering with a crash.

“JET LINER GOES DOWN IN OCEAN. LONDON TO HONALULU FLIGHT ENDS IN TRAGEDY,” read the banner headline.

“Oh, dear God.” Elizabeth jumped up and grabbed the newspaper out of the man’s hands, only then realizing it was the same man whose briefcase she had kicked the previous evening. There was a look of instant recognition on both of their faces, but not one of mutual respect.

“What the fuck lady? First my briefcase. Now my paper? What’s up with you hyper-aggressive English dames?”

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Elizabeth did not care. She pulled away the paper, and was scouring the article for details.

“Hey lady, I will make sure that you get a reprimand from Commodore Airlines!” yelled the American traveler indignantly, “In fact, I will get you fired! In fact I will guarantee it! You don’t know who you are messing with!”

“Easy Harvey, your blood pressure!” the tourist’s wife looked at him with some concern, “Easy does it!”

Elizabeth read the story in a blur, “Flight 315 en-route to Hawaii went down in the Ocean . . . survivors have been found . . . exact casualties are presently unknown . . . ice on the wings suspected . . .” Elizabeth dropped the newspaper, and ran out of the dining room.

When she ran into the hallway, she caught a glimpse of a flight attendant with long black hair walk out of the front doors of the hotel. She was walking fast. In fact, it was all Elizabeth could do to catch up to her.

“Zara! Wait, Wait! I have to talk to you! Wait!” Elizabeth called out to the fast-moving figure.

Zara Jane turned to her and smiled a half smile . She was immaculately dressed in her uniform, pulling a black wheeled suitcase behind her, its handle clutched in her well-manicured and dainty hand.

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Elizabeth struggled to run, hobbling to the doorway, “Wait! Zara! I have to thank you.” She reached the door huffing and puffing. Her bad knee reminded her just how fragile she still was after her operation.

She peered outside. Zara Jane was standing on the street corner, about to cross at the light.

“I have to thank you,” she said apologetically, “I thought you made me miss my flight.” She caught up with her.

“I did,” Zara Jane smiled and said, “I had to.”

“Why? I don’t understand?”

“Never ask ‘Why’ or ‘How’ things happen in life, my dear! They just do the way they are meant to.”

“I don’t understand, please explain to me what ever do you mean?”

“OK, I will try. I don’t normally do this explanation thing, but I think you are ready for the message.”

“You are not a flight attendant?”

“Only when I have to be. For you I am one, because it was the only way that I could get there to stop you from flying last night.”

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“What about the others on the plane?”

“There was nothing I could do for them, I am afraid. Their dice were already cast. For you, you have someone on the other side. He loves you very much, and was watching over you. It is your husband,” she held a reassuring hand on Elizabeth’s cheek, “He request at interception on your behalf. He said he has been watching you in your flat, and how you have wasted away years pining for his return. He wants you to find happiness again!”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I cannot.”

“No my dear,” she insisted, “don’t be so stubborn. You can, and you must! There is still happiness to be found, and it is with another man who will remind you of Frederick in so many ways.”

“I can’t even look at another man, my dear.”

“I understand your feeling that way – but remember that you have been spared for a reason. No?”

Elizabeth fought back the tears, and nodded.

“You life was spared so that you can live again. So that Love can find you again. Don’t fight Destiny, remember you could have ended up as fish food!”

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“That’s macabre,” Elizabeth balked at the thought, and tears ran down her cheeks.

“Sorry, I need to make an impression upon you. If you keep an open mind, you will find your heart begin to open again. Frederick wanted me to come and save you – he did not want you to die in a fiery plane crash. But he wanted a fire to burn again -- in your heart. You deserve it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were spared so that you can begin to live again. Your life stopped being lived a long time ago. Friends stopped visiting, Frederick said, as your flat became a tomb. His tomb. Will you make me a promise?”

Elizabeth nodded, “I will try.”

“No, trying is not enough. I am going to ask you to make a commitment to me. Will you do this for me?”

“OK,” Elizabeth said, holding out her hand.

“Good, when you get home, every day, open all the curtains in your place. Let the sun shine in, and open the windows, catch the breeze. Let it fill your apartment. Then let it will fill and refresh your mind.”

Elizabeth nodded, “I can do that, I will try.”

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“And take Frederick’s picture down, and place that at the bottom of your dresser drawer, face down, will you do that?”

Elizabeth was shocked, “How do you know about his picture? And face down?”

“Frederick told me of course! He has been watching over your shoulder for years. He sees you kiss his picture every night. He wants this to stop. He wants you to actually let him go. This is for two reasons.”

“What are they?”

“One, it will allow you to find love in your life again.”

“And the other?”

“Oh, the other reason,” Zara Jane smiled, “Is that it will allow Frederick to move on too. I promise you the new man you will meet in your life will take care of you just like Frederick did. And when Frederick sees this, he will be able to move on too. He wants you should be happy, and with another good man.”

“You sure? You are not just saying this?”

“Frederick is sure of this, and so am I. One day you and he will see each other again, I promise, but there are still many years left to go for you before that happens.” Zara Jane took her left thumb and dried the tears on 27

Elizabeth’s cheeks, “And there is someone else that you are supposed to meet, all right love?”

“Frederick sent you to tell me this?”

“Yes, he did.”

“God!” she sobbed, “I miss him so much.”

“And he you. But he does not want you to be closed to loving again in your life, and living it!” She looked deep into Elizabeth’s eyes, “You will remember you promised me, and him . . . today . . . we have such an agreement?”

Elizabeth nodded, crying, and searched her jacket pockets for a handkerchief to dry her eyes, and blow her nose. There was none. When she looked up, Zara Jane was gone. She looked around her. The magical flight attendant was no-where to be seen.

Elizabeth then realized that while she was standing on the street corner, the sun had come out from behind the clouds, and was shining brightly above.

She could not find her familiar dark clouds, and no matter how hard she looked. Somehow, they were no longer hovering over her head. Strange, she thought.

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She walked unsteadily back into the hotel lobby.

On the coffee table in the lobby was a book, whose title caught her off guard. “Trapping Angels with Dreams,” it read. She picked up the book. The author wrote in the introduction that there are many doors to perception, and that Angels could enter, and leave, through the dream state, through one or other of these doors.

“Take it with you,” the hotel clerk said, smiling and waving, “Read it on the plane.” She nodded, and thanked the man. He must have thought she was one of the usual flight attendants staying at his hotel.

Elizabeth realized she was still in her flight attendant’s uniform when she made it back to Heathrow Airport.

She was able to make a call to Drew from the Commodore Airlines courtesy phone. He had been frantic, but she reassured him she was fine, that fate intervened, and that even though she missed her flight and his graduation, her life was spared, and that was all that mattered. He was weeping on the phone. She told him not to cry, that she would take the next available flight out, and that a new chapter was about to begin in her life, and his.

She also told Drew that from this point forward everything would be all right.

And this time, she actually believed it.

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Allan Jon Kretzmar Š2011. All rights reserved.

All characters in this mini-book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons living or dead, is coincidental. No part of this mini-book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.

First printing.

Poetry by Chris Steven Young.

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