Flight of Dreams

by Ariel Lawhon

Nothing reveals a man’s true character like the way he behaves when being served a meal.

Below them, the Hindenburg’s searchlight slides over small towns and villages, pastures, and here and there the glassy surface of a lake, briefly illuminating the microcosm of rural life.

There is a sharp, wicked, intelligent note to her laughter.

To speak with the slightest movements. To communicate with little more than a drumming finger or a long stare. It is a rare gift in marriages, one they capitalize on often.

is like taking a tour through the skeletal system of an automaton. The subtle creaking of welded joints is audible here in the absence of walls and doors and ceilings. But

They are broad and strong and calloused. They are the hands of a man who has never known a sedentary day.