Jane glanced out her windshield. The day was calm, even at forty-five hundred feet. Her plane speared through the air, leaving no feeling of its passing. The view ahead was clear, and she was low enough to use landmarks. This was a straightforward flight.
A moving, dark spot caught her left eye. She snapped her head that way. Her adrenaline surged. She gripped the yoke tighter. She saw nothing. It could be anywhere in the immense sky, or nowhere. She grabbed her mic to call the tower. Before she pressed the button, Jane noticed a stable shape outside her right window.
A crow was flying by the tip of the wing, keeping easy pace with her plane.
She knew it was too high – she knew it was too fast. Yet, here was a crow – hanging out by her wingtip. She checked a screen, about a hundred miles from the airport. She smiled. She looked over at the crow again – it tilted its wing towards her. Not knowing what else to do, she tilted her wing towards it. It slowed and descended. Amazed, Jane watched it until it disappeared.
On the ground, Jane unloaded her equipment onto a luggage cart. She was excited to talk to her family. She pulled the equipment-laden cart to the private reception area. She could see her sister and mother through the windows. She passed through the automatic door. The chaos smacked her senses.
Everyone was shouting; the overhead speaker spewed a constant, tinny voice. Her family were on their phones, and their faces were pale. They had not noticed Jane. She walked up until she was a few feet away and stopped. Her mother looked up, panicked.
“What happened?” asked Jane, even though she was afraid of the answer.
“The parking garage just collapsed, Dad was parking the car,” wailed her sister.
Jane set the crow down and went to her mother.
