Daily story, October 9, 2024

I always wanted to go in a helicopter. Don’t know why. I don’t like heights or noise. I like sitting in my garden and looking at birds. Helicopters aren’t even good for looking at birds. Anyway, every reason you might go in a helicopter seems like something bad. Some kind of rescue or something, or you’ve joined the military. Probably you’ve got a grievous injury, or you’re about to get one, or everything you have is on fire or underwater, or all of the above. I wouldn’t want to go in a helicopter if it was taking me away from the ruins of my house, the garden covered except for the sycamore tree where the magpies nest. Coming back only to pick through the rubble.

You can just pay to go in a helicopter. Feels a bit pathetic, though, all that money on a daft little whimsy in a helicopter that could be rescuing people. Maybe one day someone would get me that as a present. If they were to think of it.