The dull thud thud-ing of the heart took a front row seat, pushing every other sound to the rear as the aircraft left the bay and began it’s slow (almost painfully so) taxi to the runway. Sweaty palms groped at the seat handles. The almost robotic antics of the cabin crew had but the weakest of grips on anyone’s attention. The gentle wailing of the engines played a constant background to the scrambled images projected by a confused brain. The slow, winding 180 degree turn to align the vehicle with the runway increased the rate at which the heart was going. It was a beautiful sight nevertheless, the wide tarmac lined by drops of light escorting you till the end.
Then, a momentary halt, a few seconds long, where everything went blank, and silent, like the mind numbing two second halt before the fall on a roller coaster. This was when the engines started to voice their power. What was once a nagging whine turned into a banshee-like screech as the aircraft hurtled down the runway, G-forces pinned you down onto your seat.
Then, at the peak of its rumble, there came that small tug at the navel that tells you you’re off the ground….flying.