All those shiny gadgets he had weren’t of any help when he had to jot down his thoughts. He needed a pen and paper. The inner storm wouldn’t settle unless he wrote it down.
He continued scribbling fast on his small handy pad as he heard the announcement requesting passengers to board the flight. With an increased pace, he scribbled away faster capturing every detail of his thoughts, afraid that he might lose it if he stopped now.
He boarded the plane just in time beaming with a content smile. As the flight took off, he dozed off watching a calm, clear, and beatific sunrise.
A loud cry of a child somewhere in the plane behind him woke him up. A little annoyed, he reached for his pen only to find it lying beside his feet.
He bent to pick it up as it slid slightly to the right. The flight shuddered entering in to the turbulence. An air hostess tripped right then almost falling onto the seat beside him.
Sweat beads rolled down his cheeks as he blinked in fear. He took out his notepad in frenzy. His hands started trembling after hearing a loud thunder.
He kept staring at his notepad in disbelief as the scenes, one after the other, came to life.
“Am I going to die?”, he whispered, teary eyed, looking at the last line of his script.