Random 20

After the aeroplane took off, four men in ragged greatcoats emerged from the trees and walked together to the end of the runway, a small terrier yapping at their heels. None spoke as the catarrhal twin engine roar faded and the plane's lopsided silhouette gradually shrank to a speck on the horizon. Even the dog fell silent, drooping its head to study the ground with an unfamiliar concentration.

When the keenest eye could see no more, they turned away and trudged along the tarmac in the dimming light. Then they spoke, as if granted permission by some unseen authority -- or by its absence -- but no man could bring himself to say what was really on his mind.

"I don't suppose this strip will ever see another plane."

"No. That was the last. Perhaps there are still a few flying somewhere, but why would they come here?"

"For the cuisine?"

"Ha fucking ha."

There was a pause.

"The old girl wasn't sounding her best."

"She'll make it. Plenty of mileage left in those engines."

"There hasn't been a sturdier chunk of airframe aloft since the thirties."

"The Aurora, maybe?"

"She was a good ship."

"Yes, but just a relic now."

"Aren't we all?"

"I know which I'd choose, anyway. Aurora couldn't take the Grace even in her prime."

"And she had it easy. None of this jungle crap."

"Maybe she has, since then. A lot could have happened in the last twenty years."

"A lot has happened. And that's just the shit we know about."

"We know about the Grace."

"That we do."

"She'll make it."

The dog howled quietly, and for a moment there was just a ghost of a flash in the sky, a shimmer so faint it could easily be taken for a trick of the imagination. No-one did take it as such, but they consoled themselves with other palatable explanations.

"Hush, Bessie. She'll make it."

"She has to."

They walked on. In the twilight it was impossible to see who spoke next, his voice an unidentifiable whisper.

"Do you think she saw us?"

But the question hung unanswered as they turned into the jungle and the shadows engulfed them; and finally someone rescued them all by asking:

"What's for dinner, then?"
Posted by matt at July 8, 2008 10:31 PM