When a poor man turned forty-four, he decided to sell everything and go on a big adventure. All he wants is peace and a sunny place!
But, no matter how beautiful a man's plans may be, a woman will always have the power to turn them upside down.
The...
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I step out of the cockpit and gently close the door behind me.
The two of them are just a few steps away. I don't even need to cough suggestively to catch their eyes. The German and the German woman are already staring at me as if I've just emerged from a tomb, which isn't too far from the truth.
We're in a flying coffin.
I greet them both and nod with a smile. No movement from the other side. Just four eyes scrutinizing me without blinking.
I wonder how to say in German, "We're all screwed"?
Now, why are you being silent, Tiberiu?
Say something.
I would have loved to speak Goethe's language fluently to communicate more easily with these poor souls. There's an icy silence in the air. It's a bit awkward. Fuck this language barrier!
I probably don't look great, but I feel calm and resigned. I hope that transmits to them. What need is there for words, anyway?
Anyway... I'll try to be friendly. Can lasting friendships be forged in such moments?
"Um... hello," I say. "I... was in the cockpit." I wave my hand and gesture towards the door behind me. "Cockpit? Comprende? I'm really sorry I don't know your language, good people. If I knew German, I'd tell you how complicated it is to fly this damn plane. A bunch of buttons and clocks."
The chubby German stares at me. He looks weird with his bald head. Yeah, bald men look strange. Lord, please help me not to go bald ever.
But why are they both staring at me like that? It annoys me. Maybe they think I'm crazy.
"I'm not crazy!" I announce with a frown.
The guy coughs, then speaks in fluent English:
"No one said you were, sir."
"Wow! Well, look at that," I exclaim cheerfully. "So you do know English! Very nice! Wonderful! So you can read Shakespeare in the original."
The other one is silent. He stares at me, and he's silent as a fish.
"And, since we're on the topic of reading," I continue hopefully, "does either of you know how to read the indicators and clocks of an airplane? I mean... have you taken any flying lessons?"
"No," he responds, blinking rapidly.
I clear my throat to clear my voice. I feel a hoarseness coming on.
"I thought so. Of course not. Neither have I. What a coincidence! You know English, I know English. I don't know how to fly a plane, you don't know how to fly a plane. We could be bosom buddies, right? By the way, my name is Tiberiu."
The woman and the man look at each other, then both towards me.
"I'm not sure I understand," the woman says softly. "Did something happen?"
