The Itch

You ever feel that feeling? It's like an almost imperceptible itch just under your skin. If you could locate it, maybe it would be located in the center of your back, or the base of your spine, or in your heart. Yeah, most likely in your heart. 

Your eyes stare at the monitor but instead of a screen you recall how green the grass around the runway was. Or how pretty the clouds you were flying next to and under a couple days before looked like. Or how much you wanted to fly in those clouds but you were working on other things that day. You sniff the smell of oil and avgas. Feel the vibration of the prop makes through your feet when you pull it back to 2500 RPM. Hear the sound of the air flowing by the plane a bit slower when you glide, power off, towards the runway with the gear horn screaming as you wait for just the right moment to put the gear down.

Then you blink and you're back in your cubical, staring at an email or a PowerPoint presentation about whatever it is you do during the majority of your day. You sip lukewarm coffee and listen to the discussions of your colleagues. The itch squirms under your skin and all you want to do is get back up in the air, where you belong.

I must be returning to my normal self... I've got the itch. Bad.