In “Lovecraft eZine” (forthcoming 2018)
cosmic horror (short story)
I had dreamed of flying, of seeing the deserts and jungles of Africa from the navigator's seat. Instead, I found myself grounded in Mogador, sleeping in a wooden hut with the ground crew, my hands grubby with oil from the engines of planes I was never allowed to ride in. I left France to escape a mundane existence, only to find it had followed me all the way to this dusty town on the Atlantic coast.
And then one day Grivet's plane came slipping down out of the clear blue sky and bumped its way down onto the dirt strip between the palms and the perimeter fence.