So I’m up in the air, flying my Icon A5. I’m feeling the wind yank at my hair and the strumming body of the craft beneath my fingertips. I’m laughing out loud and the sheer pleasure of it; watching the ground rip away beneath me, passing out over the waves. I’m fighting the urge to tip the aircraft just a bit and touch its wings to the clear water. I feel tears come to my eyes at the shear pleasure of it.

Call from…

What the…

Call from…

Suddenly I’m back in my office chair, reaching for the phone. Bummer.