The Ash Flight

Steampunk

(Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding)

The balloon ride was metaphorical, melancholic and metaphysical. Irony would have died a thousand deaths. The Airbus A380 with its freshly painted red tail fins had been swallowed by the milky white clouds exactly 37 minutes ago. The humongous and unbiased mechanical bird was not only a conveyance of passengers but a merciless usurper of hope as well. The airline had ensured that the turbulence was not just restricted to a space 36,000 feet above sea level. The jolts, jerks and jarring were in fact being felt by Venky in the innermost recesses of his heart.

The impulsive balloon ride was just a vain attempt at trying to get up in the air – at least – if not attempting to get close to the aircraft. While the metallic bird was heading west, the clumsy hot air balloon was wobbling away painfully in no specific direction. The ropes attached to the balloon seemed to be strings tugging at his heart.

For one final time as a gust of hot and heavy wind buffeted the balloon and its excited passengers, Venky impassively glanced up and towards the direction in which the plane had taken away his Ash. She was gone. Physically and irretrievably.

(Word Count – 199)

Written as part of Sunday Photo Fiction. Write a story of around 200 words based on the photo prompt given (above). Hosted by Susan Spaulding. For more details visit HERE.

To read more of the stories based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

3 thoughts on “The Ash Flight

  1. Ah, Venky returns to grace our Readers, his heart still an-ache for his lost Ashe. I would hug him and soothe him, but I’m guessing the miles stand between us. And I know from experience. there is no ease for what ails him. 🙂 🙂 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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