On the bus, the man sitting next to me was reading a book about helicopters. Not a story but a text book, a manual with diagrams and bullet points and what have you. I wondered if he was just studying aeronautics or if he had his own helicopter, just a little Robinson or a great big Chinook…. Maybe he was planning on building one, (remember that brave man who fled the Eastern Bloc in a homemade flying machine with his little boy on his knee?) or perhaps he was in the RAF and, if so, might look dashing in uniform, and he might be involved in any number of important expeditions, from conveying royalty to important dos to saving lives in London car crashes. How exciting! I had to speak.
“I say, your book looks terribly interesting,” I began.
“Not really,” he said and he got off the bus.
Possible entry for the current Flash Fiction challenge, although I have another idea that I may yet write up….
Another true story, I should add. I feel the disappointment even now.