When We Land
A pilot helps two women cross state lines.
The plane was a bit larger than a pickup truck. It could go ninety to a hundred and twenty miles per hour. The pilot sat in the seat with the controls. He looked at the two women. Their faces looked like putty or something else to be shaped. They didn’t look angry or sad or happy. They just wanted to board.
“We’re going to fly for an hour and then refuel. I won’t ask questions. You look like you’ve been through enough.”
She made it to the clinic. She didn’t cry. Her sister held onto her hand. She rid herself.
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Skyler Saunders
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