Jessica circled the old plane, analyzing each dent and rust stain with a pretend critical eye. It didn’t matter what the state of the plane was, she just needed the junk to look like a plane. Well, and want to be a plane.
She removed her glove, not caring about the winter chill, and ran her fingers over the rough metal on the nose. A nervous energy hummed deep inside the metal, a machine who had long forgotten its role and purpose. But she could change that. She could wake the machine and coax it back into an enthusiasm for life. It wouldn’t be the first time she reignited the soul of a piece, though never something this large and the soul this far gone.
“It’s lost some of its sides,” Jessica critiqued, waving her hand dismissively.
The junkyard sales lady sniffed. “We’re a scrap yard. It doesn’t need to work.”
“I’ll buy it.”
Soft sounds no one else could hear rumbled beneath the metal, grumbling and yearning for rest. She ignored the twinge of guilt. She couldn’t let it rest, not when she needed a cheap plane.
The sale wrapped up quickly, and when the sales lady was gone, Jessica pressed both hands on the plane’s nose and closed her eyes. Magic and purpose built inside her, and the plane’s hesitant soul soon relaxed and answered the call. Metal twisted and grumbled until a working plane spread out before her.
There. It really did want to be a plane.
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