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Wild Wendy Part 2The fighter wasn't used to the feeling of resignation. It felt all wrong to him, yet here it was. The doctor's report lay on the low table between him and his plane captain, a normally taciturn pitty known to the rest of the crew as "Dutch". But Dutch was talking now, and his tone sounded as unhappy as the jet now felt.
"That's what he said, Bravo." the pitty shrugged and sighed. "The repairs are made, but it'll take at least six months for them to set properly and for the frame to heal around them. That means no cat and no wire for that time. Sorry I don't have some better news for you right now."
"S'OK, Dutch." The part-bred Hornet settled on his shocks, elevators drooping. "But what am I supposed to do until we get to port? Last place I want to be is sitting on my tail, down here, when everybody else is on deck or out." Bravo's eyes shifted towards the rest of the now partly-empty hangar deck. Echo was away, having been paired with one of the newbies for the interim. Which was all w
Wild Wendy Pt. 1Glencombe was a small airport community located in the middle of the Alaskan Panhandle, about hopping distance from Juneau. Perhaps 1200 aircraft and associated vehicles called it home. It had the usual collection of residential and commercial hangars, a few stores, a diner and a small admin center with some pathetic, weathered structure which should have been arrested for attempting to impersonate a control tower. But what really made Glencombe the punchline of local humor was that it was the location of one of the most notorious facilities for "juvenile aircraft offenders" on the west coast. If there was an adolescent in trouble with the law, and they had wings or rotors, it was entirely possible that they'd end up cooling their engines at Glencombe Youth Correctional Facility.
On this Monday, two pitties glided down the aisles of the long hangar section marked as "D Wing." One of them was a veteran, the chief correctional officer for the section, the other a new guard. The chi
a hospital bird with soot in her lungsshe slept through a car crash
that almost killed her,
through whitewhite walls
where her lover dies
nobody thought she'd make it
but she woke up a few months later
with flowers in her hair
and ash in her airway
trying to remember how to start all over
but forgetting to remember how to live.
fall slipped from her open eyes
and winter crawled in for a long hibernation
to her the clouds looked sick
and pale like they might
let everything inside them out,
but she opened up wide instead,
spilling blood where there was none to be spilled.
her heart slipped down the street
and with unsteady hands
she stitched in a bird and cut off its wings.
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