June 25, 2010

From my Blackberry

Blackhawk Up

I’m sitting in a Blackhawk helicopter with the Time Bandits in Baghdad. The flash of the rotor as it slashes the dusty sheet of sunlight that is the entire sky makes everything herky jerky like a home movie. I tug on the tabs of my shoulder straps as I realize the wide open door isn’t a door at all. There is no door. The whole side is open. The wind from the propeller is trying to rip the sleeve off my shirt. My toes curl, trying to grip, my stomach leaps and we’re lifting off. Our dragonfly shadow flees across the landing pad and we’re in the sky.