The rain pelted our small air craft like wet bullets. Thank God we were a few minutes from landing. The wind picked up and the pilot was having a hard time controlling the plane. The wind and rain abruptly stopped allowing clear vision toward the runway.
I departed and I was back home. But it was different somehow. The ten minute drive to the house seemed longer than it should have been. The streets were more narrow and there were more trees lining the road than I remembered.
I pulled up to the house I grew up in, and on the porch sat a young boy. I got out of the car and leaned against the porch railing. The boy and I just gazed at each other in silence. He spoke my name, and I realized that was no ordinary plane I was on.