His controls were dead.
His heading set.
He pulled the picture out of his pocket, the blood leaking from his flight jacket.
His hand shook with the weight of the world. Looking lovingly at his wife and children smiling back at him, he felt a sadness pierce his slowing heart.
Tears flooded his eyes, but it wouldn’t matter.
The window was already filled with the smear of oil from the engine.
He sobbed, knowing this was the end…. a heavenly light took over his cockpit.
He felt an embrace that only his subconscious remembered… he glanced at the picture one last time…
he knew it would be alright.
He knew he was going home.
— My early morning thoughts on 9/16/2023.