Monday, August 27, 2007

Paper Air Planes

    A man sits alone in a room. He is behind a desk. The desk is littered with papers.  He slowly shuffles them from one pile to another. He is looking for something. He opens a drawer and pulls out a cell phone. The phone is an older “brick” phone. The man begins to shuffle through more papers. He settles on one and slowly dials the phone.

     “Hello, may I speak with Gloria.”

    “Yes, I can wait. … Well how long? … I still want to wait.”

    He puts the phone down and very faint hold music drifts out of the earpiece. It’s a weird mixture of “Message in a Bottle” and “Canon in D.”  He takes the closest piece of paper and slowly folds it in half. He starts to hum along as he unfolds and refolds the paper. His humming starts to get more animated and the volume swells. He brings up paper he has been working on and let loose a paper airplane. The plane banks as it rises and starts to slowly circle the room. The man starts to fold another piece of paper.

    There are twelve paper airplanes circling the room. Each of them seems to catch random drafts of air that help keep them aloft and slowly floating in large lazy circles. He pulls another piece of paper from a stack as his phone calls out, “Sorry for your inconvenience of waiting. How may we help you?”

    “I need help.”

    “What kind of help? If you have our number you must know we offer all types of help.”
    “Well, I can make paper airplanes fly.”

    “Sir, anyone can do it.”

    “How many people can keep them aloft for twenty five minutes at a time?”

    “…what? Wait, you can hold paper airplanes in the air for twenty five minutes at a time?”

    “They have been up there for about twenty five minutes. I really haven’t been keeping track.”

    “Sir, we are sending some people over right now. Until they reach you I need you to stay calm, and try to put the planes down.”

    “Yes mam, I will put them down.”

    He turns off the phone and places it back in the drawer it came from. As he gets up from the desk he grabs another piece of paper and starts to fold it. He walks toward the window and looks down on a black van stopping. His paper is now another air plane near the ceiling. “Come my darlings,” he says, “the time has come.” His desk comes alive as papers on top of papers fold themselves into paper airplanes of all shapes and sizes. As soon as the top layer can take to the air, the next ones down start to fold them selves. He watches as men in black jump out of the van. He giggles just a little as he walks back to the desk, picks up a piece of paper, and starts to fold another airplane.




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