"My life is spent in one long effort to escape from the commonplaces of existence." ― Sir Arthur Conan Doylen, Sherlock Holmes
hello    bookmarks     archive     bloglovin    shop    home

January 9, 2017

January 9: Nicknames

More about the 20 Days of Chill over here

Fiction: Forget Nick

Just an hour ago, he said his name was Nick and that he was invisible to everyone but me. But as he jumps out of the plane, a few screams are heard behind me. I hold tightly to the doorframe and watch as his parachute opens to reveal a face - his face - winking up at me. I begin to wonder how long before the plane crashes and why am I at the plane's door. Two stewardesses come and the short one gently lead me away onto a seat. Then they pull the door closed. They walk back toward me and the tall one said passengers are not allow to open the plane's door. She gives me a smile that says I have better listen to her or else. From that hour, I must go sit in my assigned seat and remain there for the rest of the flight or else they would tie me down. I nod my head and give them a small smile.

The plane lifts up. We are saved. But as I turn to survey the passengers around me, none make any moves that suggest they have witnessed a man jumping out of the plane they are on.

I know I should forget about Nick or whatever his name is. Aside from knowing him for only an hour when we started conversing just after the plane lifted, there is this dumb look he have on his face that keeps remaining me of a lost puppy, a very handsome puppy that you know will ruin your furniture and force you to take him out in the middle of the night for a peed break. But why am I there at the plane's door? And how come I can't remember how I got there?

I half ask, half beg one of the stewardesses, the short one, to check the passenger list but there is no one named Nick or Nicholas or even Nicky. But then who had been sitting in the seat beside me? The steward said that person cancelled at the last minute. There is no passenger for that seat. Why with the plane being so crowded that there is an empty seat?

I begin to believe I might have dreamt Nick up. But then I hear one of the stewardesses exclaim she have met a man named Nick just before we boarded the plane. He said he was a spy but she didn't believe him. I sat during the last hour of the flight wishing I could either remember what happened or forget every single thing about Nick.


  1. Interesting dilemma of Nick

  2. A surreal story. I like those!

  3. Another mysterious tale. I am enjoying your fiction.

  4. Aren't those the strangest situations? The more colourful a dream (or a memory) is the more one is convinced it really happened.

  5. You seem to meet a lot of people others don't see ... hmmm. :)


"To practice any art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow. So do it." -- Kurt Vonnegut

This blog is powered by Blogger, fairytales, sleeping princes, moon cakes, express trains, faraway friends, a lost memory, a princess dragon, cold weather, the color mint, friendly giants, and the rain. Thank you for visiting & have a lovely day.

All artwork & photography by lb (lissablue) unless otherwise stated. If you use one of my creations, please credit a link to this blog. thank you.