He thought he had the answer to conquering my fear, when he told me with much excitement, "A photographer flew with me today."
"Oh really, how was it?"
He knew by the sound of my voice that I wasn't seduced, but by the look in his eye, I sensed he had more caressing gathered in his ammunition.
With a hero's leap, he grabbed my arms, twirling his thoughts around me, hoping to pierce my fear and have joy burst through he said, "I took the doors off my plane so that the photographer could have a better view. Imagine that! Don't you want to come too?"
The visual he painted with his few words surrounded me like a scene from Out of Africa, my imagination soared tempting me to leap up and fly away with him. Though the moment my wings gave way to victory, my fear grabbed me…
"Oh….when did you learn to fly?" (quoting from the flight scene in Out of Africa)
"What?"
"No, not what! You are supposed to say, 'Yesterday' and then she jumps into the plane…."
"Corey, what are you talking about? Are you going to come flying with me?"
"Out of Africa, it is a scene from the movie."
"And…." he waited and waits.
"Oh."
Winged defeat is ours. I am still scared of our last time.
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Note: French Husband has been flying for nearly three years. I went up once. Though wonderful I still shiver thinking about it.
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