‘’You know, I specifically asked them not to give me a BLT, but they did it anyway,’’ the burly, sleazy-looking man next to Richard huffed out as he took a sip from a can of Dr. Pepper. ‘’I prefer Cubans, you see, the bread’s soft, and they’ve got this sauce they call mojo, and it makes for a more authentic experience. It’s like Nirvana in your mouth.’’ The man smacked his lips, and continued. ‘’The toast bread always cuts my palate, you know? I hate it when that happens. You can’t enjoy anything when that happens.’’ 

Richard smiled at the man, while his eyes lamented being seated next to him, and agreed. ‘’Yeah, I know that. You should have switched it when you had the chance,’’ he said, turning his head to look out of the window. He had taken this ticket to enjoy the opportunities created by being a high-up in an electronics company, such as getting away from his wife and children, and yet, here this vagrant was, pissing on his dreams of peace and quiet with his sandwich preferences.

‘’I would have, but I hate to put extra work on the shoulders of the attendants, you see. I think it’s horrid, having to dress up in high heels and putting on makeup just so mister Wilkins over there,’’ he pointed at a fat man in a suit, ‘’feels like he can jerk off. I don’t like this sort of society. Let them have their way. I’m not going to be part of it.’’

Richard smiled. ‘’Yet you’re on Business Class, aren’t you?’’ He said coyly, his eyes glinting with the pleasure achieved from finally getting back at the man and his troupe of annoyances. If only he could get this man to shut up too, then it’d all be perfect. But it seemed the man was feeling argumentative.

‘’Hey, I never asked for a Business Class ticket,’’ the man said hastily, his voice reeking with hints of frustration, and even slight anger. ‘’It’s not my fault that my agent got me a ticket for this seat. I’m no man of comfort, buddy – I’ve had to spend days waddling through shit and malaria-laden waters in Vietnam!’’ He took another sip from his can of Dr. Pepper. ‘’You folk and your prejudices.’’ 

Richard actually felt a tinge of regret for snapping back at his fellow veteran, and a newfound sense of respect for him. ‘’You served? You never struck me as that type,’’ he replied with a newly found friendly tone. ‘’Richard Samuels, I was a Lance Corporal, got a Purple Medal in Da Nang during the Tet.’’ 

The burly man looked slightly distressed by this information, and replied a moment later. ‘’I’m Isaac, Isaac Graham. Funny, I was wounded on a convoy from Tam Kỳ to Da Nang during the Tet. That was the end of my time in Vietnam. Small world, huh?’’ He asked, trying to cut down on the conversation amicably. He didn’t want for the man to find out his line of work and end up giving him shit because of it. But Isaac was no pacifist – oh, no, he’d punch a man a new mouth if things were to get there. Not that he was an advocate of violence.

‘’Certainly is. So where’d you-What’s that?’’ Richard asked, rustled by the sudden shaking.

‘’Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure it’s just some turbulen-Holy shit, the wing’s on fire!’’ Isaac shouted, and as the lights began to flicker, suddenly everyone began shouting. ‘’Fucking hell, we’re crashing!’’ Richard screamed as his stomach bounced with the odd movements of the plane. Luggage began flying around the cabin like pellets in a snow globe, or maybe more like squash balls, and Isaac was hit in the face by his half-empty Dr. Pepper can, spilling its contents all over him. Isaac screamed in fright, mistaking the fluid all over his clothes and face as blood in the dim light, adding to the cacophony of horror going on inside the cabin. Immediately after, the plane rumbled like it were growling, and at that point Isaac nearly got his skull cracked open by a stray piece of luggage that bounced off his head into the face of some kid sitting two rows in front of him, to the right side. Isaac closed his eyes, not wishing to see whatever happened, and not being able to see without pain now with the burning feeling on the side of his head, as the plane canted towards the left. Isaac stopped screaming and just kept his mouth open at an uncertain moment, and suddenly, a hand on his shoulder latched on, trying to comfort him. 

‘’Good God, calm down!’’ Richard screamed out, himself barely adhering to the command, and the screaming and the weird mechanical failure sounds made his appeal to Isaac barely comprehensible. Isaac wasn’t going to have any of it, and just kept blurting out air. With another rumble, suddenly, the plane started vibrating as if it were thrown onto some lethal massage chair, and one explosion and crashing sound later, Isaac found himself looking at a hull breach where Richard once was, flames and snow making a (from an observer’s perspective, and not a participant’s) nice, if foreboding, change of scenery than the plane cabin full of screaming people. Of course, Isaac being there and experiencing things firsthand, he wanted to jump away from the large hole, but found himself unable to, courtesy of his seatbelt. Moments later, he felt as if he was in zero gravity, his stomach feeling in a vacuum, and then, alongside more crashing, he lost consciousness, his last glimpses of sight being that of faint flames, blur, and screaming people.

When he came to, from visions of explosions, screaming, and shouting, Isaac found his shoulders, face and chest peppered with blood, be it from the seats in front of him, or from the gash on the side of his head.  Slanted down, he could feel wind blowing from the rip on the fuselage right next to him. Ironically, his rucksack sat right in front of his feet, somehow having found its place next to its owner in all the chaos earlier. Isaac felt an overwhelming need to smoke, be it a regular cigarette or a joint, but unfortunately for him, now really wasn’t the time. He fumbled with his seatbelt to free himself, but his eyes were darting around the scene. He could see some conscious, and one woman was even trying to wake up a flight attendant. And at that moment, he couldn’t help but think the whole sight would make for an excellent photograph.