Page 12 - Reason To Sing by Kelita Haverland

Prologue

The small plane lurches unexpectedly, causing my tiny plastic
glass of water to explode all over my blouse. Great. More
turbulence. Exactly what I need in my life.
At least I’m not drinking red wine.
I wish I was drinking red wine. Any wine. I’m a bundle
of jangling nerves and this bumpy flight isn’t helping. Deep
breathing isn’t helping. Wine wouldn’t help either. There is no
help for me.
I attempt to mop up the wet mess with the equally tiny
napkin the flight attendant served with my peanuts. It doesn’t
do much good. The plane plunges yet again. I close my eyes
tightly, as if shutting off the view will end the turmoil.
Unlikely.
I have just escaped from a disastrous hurricane in Nashville,
and I’m heading home to a potentially bigger cyclone in
Toronto. There have been a lot of storms in my life. More than
most, I figure. And I have weathered them all. And somehow,
miraculously, survived. But all that past craziness happened
to me. I didn’t get a vote. So much unbelievable stuff just
happened. But this is new. Yes, this is different. This was all
caused by me. Me.
My fault. My choice. My dumb decision. And now I will
have to face the music, and that once-beautiful music may well
come to a deafening end.
What was I thinking? How could I have been so reckless?
The empty water glass cracks in my hand as I choke back a
sob. In less than half an hour this stupid plane will land. That
is if we don’t crash first. A part of me would rather suffer this
airborne pandemonium forever than confront the chaos surely
waiting for me at home.

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