`` Afraid Of Heights ``

1574 WordsDec 6, 20167 Pages
Everyone gets one chance at death, and honestly? I had always imagined that mine would count for a little more. I never asked for much, just maybe dying a hero or a revolutionary or something like that? Even just a graduate? I would have been happy with that, well, happy with anything really. But honestly my death was, if anything, anticlimactic. It began, as you might say, by complete coincidence on a commercial flight to Amsterdam. Me and my fear of heights, choose the aisle seat while a pale-looking businessman sat next to the window playing Candy Crush on his iPhone. I had to confess; he was making me feel a tad edgy, constantly looking at his old antique silver watch and checking out the window. “We’re taking off,” he murmured, as he switched his phone into flight mode and slipped it into his briefcase. I just smiled and turned away from the window, trying to avoid thinking about the increasing space separating me from safety. “Afraid of heights?” he questioned inquisitively, before giving a small smile “You probably would have preferred the 4.50 flight to Dubai. I was meant to be on that cursed plane you know.” He gave a dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes. “Got on the wrong one.” “What do you mean I would have preferred the other flight?” I asked. Trying to avoid looking at the fluffy white clouds drifting past the window, like deceiving little safety nets. “I mean literally cursed.” He turned and smiled “There was a terrorist on board”. He pulled open the in-flight

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