I was vibrating as the airbus catapulted through the heavy, steel grey cloud cover. A forecast of stormy weather embraced the plane as it gained altitude. Overhead bins rattled in unison. I clutched the aged, leather-bound novel a bit tighter as if that would steady me through the yoyo turbulence. The book was a mystery – On a Pale Horse – not your everyday fun, vacation read. It was tucked in the navy, mesh seat pocket, forgotten, separated from its owner. I knew the representation of the Pale Horse in the Book of Revelation. Out of curiosity I started reading it during the take-off delay.

That lead blanket feeling of takeoff lifted. We must have reached the cruising level. I was engrossed in the book but became aware of the eerie quiet. My overhead light flickered. It cast a halo over me. A flash out the window drew my attention. “What the Hell?” I gasped. An illuminated billboard sat on a cloudy patch of nothingness.

I focused on the words: “You’ll flunk out of college. You’re not disciplined enough or smart enough.” The book dropped with a soft thud. Another board appeared. “Matt is going to leave you for that overachieving redhead he works with.” I blinked rapidly. I didn’t want to look out the window again but couldn’t stop myself. “Friends? Ha. Didn’t you see the Insta post of them at dinner without you?” Why? Where did these come from? “Your dad is terminal. Not much time left. Why haven’t you visited?” A tear slid down my cheek. A heavy sadness weighed me down. I tried to unpack what I read and the bizarreness of it.

I reached down and retrieved the fallen book. I closed my eyes pinching the tension that was forming on the bridge of my nose. The novel must have stirred up my insecurities. “More like a personal hell” I muttered. I snapped the cover shut and put it back in the pocket holder. The airplanes’ overhead lights flicked on. The volume of conversations increased around me. The flight attendant’s landing instructions played over the intercom system. Plane life resumed.

Upon landing, I exited the plane as fast as possible. I wanted to put that ride behind me. Matt was picking me up and we were meeting some of his work friends for drinks. I have a final paper due but can pull an all-night work session or do it tomorrow. I need to unwind; I need a drink. I have too much stress in my life. That’s the only explanation for the mid-sky “this is your life” advertisement. I inserted my earbuds and hit my playlist. I froze mid-step and looked down at my phone. This is NOT on my list. ACDC’s “Highway to Hell” filled my head.

April 2024, K. Nave

Meet Finnola, who prefers Nola and is formally known as Pixie, a mishmash of Jack Russell, Chihuahua and mystery dog. She doesn't like to reveal her age, but hints at being in the seven to eight year old range. Her talents include springing straight up and down like a pogo stick while her meals are prepared. Nola excels at ripping apart stuffies to remove the squeaker. Her record is two minutes. She is health conscious and prefers to snack on cucumbers, strawberries and raw goat milk. The girl can run!

Before joining her forever family, Nola lived on the streets of Philadelphia. Her torn hear is a reminder of that past life. She passed time in a shelter and an abusive house. These hardships took a toll on her mentally and physically. She was scared and wary of people. She has overcome many of these obstacles through her mom's compassion and patience. Her trust level has grown and her fears have diminished. Nola remains cautious, but has learned to enjoy life and accept love.

When Nola is not begging for food or destroying toys, she can be found playing shadow pup with her favorite person. She enjoys a good round of roughhousing with her stepsister dog Jozie. Nola's favorite hangout is hiking on her family's mountain property. She sticks her nose in any and every hole she finds and wades in the shallow creek. She has a strong bond with her mom built on love, trust and consistency.