Saturday's Storyteller: "There was a spiral painted onto the engine turbine, as if to hypnotize the oncoming birds."

by Belinda Roddie

There was a spiral painted onto the engine turbine, as if to hypnotize the oncoming birds. I kept my eyes on it during the entire flight. The red curves and loops were oddly calming, and sometimes, if I unfocused my gaze, the whole thing looked like it was pulsing and moving, bending and twisting into new shapes and forms. Staring at that spiral kept my mind off the occasional twitch of the plane as it hurtled through the stormy skies. It distracted me from the occasional flashes of lightning, the rattling of plates on trays during turbulence, and of course, the moments when the snores of the man sitting next to me felt more akin to wheezes or last breaths.

By the time we landed, the clouds had cleared up, and everyone felt so blue. I got off the plane and felt wobbly on my feet, the image of that simple spiral staying with me. So much for entrancing avian creatures - it had done its job of entrancing me.

We took thirty minutes getting our bags and forty-five more going through customs. By the time I made it to the arrivals lobby, I was surprised to see that you were still waiting. You held a white sign with my name written in red Sharpie, with curls and hearts for the i's and t's. Almost like spirals, even.

"Welcome back," you said to me after a few kisses. For a moment, I thought I would regain my balance. Instead, it was as if my innards were twirling like curly fries. Welcome home, indeed.

This week's prompt was provided by Arden Kilzer.