Excerpt from my novel, Redemption

The flight is uneventful and small. Charlie and Misty split cost of a charter from Florence to the Isle of Man Airport at Ronaldsway. Custom furniture for the the headquarters of The Excalibur Project. I suspect we'll get to do all their offices if things go well. Then the four of us are off on vacation. Isle to Man to Tangier. Doesn't suck.

Everything seems a little more fragile in the air, maybe it's all travel. Leaving the place we call home tests us in ways were not tested, when at home.  Whether its geographic, emotional  or fiscal, leaving home is a test.

I feel it first in sub-pockets of old injuries. My left index finger, from a kicking accident, when I was in martial arts as a kid. My left knee, hurt playing football. A snap of pain pops up when the cabin pressure changes. All this has me miles away from the conversation Carla, Misty and Charlie are having.

Maybe I should take comfort in the fact that every journey is weaving me closing to home. That just as I leave, I'm already on my way back. But there is no comfort culled from this future knowledge. I shouldn't notice all the small crackles and pops of my body, I should give them no notice. But I hate flying and I hate not knowing where we are going, really.