Takeoff
Nov 3 · 4 min read
A Short Story

‘This will be the time. This is it; this time I’m going to die,’ Jim thought nervously to himself. His eyes were closed against the horror, hands white-knuckled, gripping the armrests while sweat poured off his brow.
“Excuse me, dearie?” A soft voice said in his ear.
Jim opened his eyes and turned to look into the faded blue eyes of a sweet looking old lady seated next to him.

