But I looked at the dress on the floor and it was as if the fire had spread across the room. It was beautiful and it reminded me of something I must do. I will remember I thought. I will remember quite soon now.” ― Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea
I remember growing up on the farm (I didn’t live there all the time,of course, but I did do some growing up there) we would haul trash out to the slough, in the cow pasture (a mess of land that wasn’t good enough for wheat) and burn it. There were decades of fire rusted tin cans there, slowly being swallowed up by the prairie. It seemed like some sort of sacred ground to me, although it had a funny smell.
Overhead, Danny heard a sound like a hundred horses galloping in unison. The craft had looked like a stray gout of orange flame rising into the sky. The white blades of its propeller carved a halo over its head. The ice cream slipped, forgotten, from Danny’s hand. The cone crunched beneath his sneaker.
—-Nicholas L. Sweeney, Helicopter
Helicopter, Downtown Dallas, Texas
I shot the helicopter reflected in a building in downtown after riding my bike to visit a new park, Pacific Plaza, in downtown. It was lifting what looked like roofing materials to the top of another skyscraper.
I looked around for a flash fiction about a helicopter, and found this one… it’s pretty good.