Sky Daddy

by Kate Folk

Only such a cosmic force could bring about my dream of marriage to a plane—what others vulgarly refer to as a “plane crash.” I believed this was my destiny: for a plane to recognize me as his soulmate mid-flight and, overcome with passion, relinquish his grip on the sky, hurtling us to earth in a carnage that would meld our souls for eternity.

From their tepid responses, I gathered the women had the same reservations about Anthony I’d held in the era prior to an hour ago, when we’d had that nice exchange in the kitchen.

I’d shown myself to be socially capable, and I wanted to exert my newfound confidence upon Mr. and Mrs. Chen. I would inflict on them my personality, which had been so amply tested at the brunch and proven to be a winning one!

we really like having you here. You’re like a family member.” He scratched beneath his left ear. “A family member we never see or talk to.”

As I belonged nowhere on the conventional spectrum of sexual orientation, I allowed people to assume I was heterosexual, and I suppose I was, as all planes are male in spirit, just as all boats are female, and helicopters possess the souls of mischievous children.

One time, in my early twenties, I’d perused message forums discussing objectum sexuality, but concluded I was nothing like the woman who married the Eiffel Tower, or another who was in love with a trombone. Planes were not static objects, but sentient beings with rich inner lives. I was a jealous lover, and if there were others like me, I preferred not to know about them.

I always felt more confident with the shape of my buttocks obscured.

Beneath the dress, I wore a pair of black leggings my mom had sent from her defect pile. They were fine, aside from a large hole in the crotch, which would provide pleasant ventilation.

I resigned myself to orgasming beside this obnoxious man.

I felt like a dead bird whose cavity he wanted to stuff with seasoned breadcrumbs.

I could not be a man’s girlfriend if I hoped to be a plane’s wife.

“I suppose I would burn to death,” I said. “Please, everyone, have some donuts.”