Date: 10/3/2022
By hellbound
I was in an airport. I was waiting in line to get on a plane. I wasn't sure where I was going. I'm not sure where the airport even was. I got on the plane. It was a small plane, it only had room for maybe 10 people. There were 2 pilots. One was sitting in the back of the plane. I didn't know anyone on the plane. The plane was old, very old. It looked like a propeller plane from the 1930s. The pilot told everyone to make sure they were hanging on to something. He started the plane, and started doing crazy tricks, like flying upside down. I was really scared. I asked one of the other passengers where we were coming from and where we were headed. She said we were coming from the east coast of Canada and going to San Francisco. The pilot stopped the plane on the interstate, somewhere near St. Louis. He said we were stopping for something to eat. We got back on the plane. Suddenly, we were in San Francisco. The pilot started racing other planes. Suddenly, he slammed into the Golden Gate Bridge, and we all died. I was in the old house in Moline. I was the only person in there, it had seemed abandoned. I went to take a bath. I got out of the tub and went outside. The neighbors were outside. They saw me and said they wanted me to write an essay on the wonders of communism.