I heard it before I saw it. The all too familiar sound of an airplane flying overhead. What made me look up I can’t say, but I’m glad I did. As the jumbo jet came into focus and I marvelled at the sight of the big metal bird flying high in the sky at alarming speed, it became clear to me that something was terribly wrong.
It passed overhead and I noticed it seemed to be getting closer with every passing second. The plane was loosing altitude, and fast too. The sound it made became deafening, jarring. The buildings shook, car alarms went off, dogs began to bark, and the plane continued to descend so much so that I felt if I reached up I could touch its belly as it glided just above the two-storey buildings.
This is not good, I thought. What do I do?
There was nowhere near here that that plane could land. It was coming in hot and heavy. What were the passengers thinking at this very moment?
As the plane sailed out of view behind the trees and the buildings that obscured my view, I waited . . . with bated breath for the inevitable. The explosion, the bang, the flash of brilliant light, the screams.
But nothing came.