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A Flow of Souls

Category: Mature
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So many times as a child, then a young man, I walked the few short miles down to the small hill. There was a tall chain link fence at the bottom of the hill, I could have climbed that but I never did.

On the hillside was soft grass, the type that never gets really tall, and it is always green, even in dry periods. I never did know what kind of grass that was, at that very young stage of my life I never even thought of it.

On the other of the tall fence side was pavement, concrete, stretching nearly as far as I could see.

I loved the evenings, the huge airliners came in very low, right over my head. I could feel the blast of air off of them. The roar of the engines made my belly, my ribs vibrate.

I would lie there and try to guess which line on the runway the huge machines were going to land on.

It was like I could nearly reach up and touch them, many times I lay there, my arms outstretched, the roar of the powerful engines filling my ears.

My young head filled with visions of all of those people inside, very few of them with even the slightest knowledge each other.

A collection of souls, all tugged by the trappings of life to one spot, one loading gate, one line, to get on one airplane.

Never knowing really or even thinking about how they were then surrounded by life, by experiences of life that then were transported in mass to another location, and then cast in all directions.

So close, so very close to others, yet often never to pass again. So close to a world of wonder, so close to feelings, emotions, families, lives, jobs, yet knowing none of the world of the others surrounding them.

That thought filled my head as I watched those airplanes land, and take off. It was my fantasy, desire, to fly and be one of them, a part of the solid never ending stream, a flow of souls.

In English class, I wrote a very short poem about it. The teacher liked it, read it before the entire class.

That was the title, “A flow of souls.”

{“A young boy I, a grassy bank,
A moment then, with flows of souls,
each passing by, no thought of lives,
surrounded, blended, yet free.

A blink in time, the aircraft rolls,
fed and filled, with that flow of souls.
The passing endless, on and on,
All just pass by, few pause to see.”}

I didn’t think it was very good but my teacher gave me an “A”.

Then came the day I walked through the terminal with my tiny suitcase in one hand, the packet clutched firmly in my other hand, magic. That packet would get me the precious ticket, I was going to get to fly.

I was going to finally know what it was like to blend my life with the moment of so many others.


“Greetings!” The letter that arrived in the mail had read. My Nation, my Country had called me to a war.

I had no real idea what the war was about, all I knew was that my Nation had told me, rather than asked me to be a part of it.

My life as it was before was lost, now I found myself preparing to board that mix of steel and plastic, aluminum.

It was exciting beyond belief to me.

I was now one of those very same flow of souls that I had sat and watched go by in wonder, so many times as a child.


The lady at the counter looked at the packet I handed her, then she looked me up and down.

At six feet, three inches I had very long legs. I saw her type something, then she handed me the ticket and smiled.

“The Stewardess will show you how to work the emergency door, I put you there so you will have more room, honey.” She grinned at me.

I made the long walk to the numbered area that was on my ticket. No one was there, I was nearly two full hours early.

I sat quietly, watching each person as they arrived and sat waiting. The area was a solid hum of voices, then I heard one lady say that must be our plane and I looked up to see one rolling our way.

I looked out the window of the terminal at the lights of the airport, it was dark outside but the area was lit up as bright as day. I could see the back half of the giant machine I was going to ride in, it was shining in the bright lights.

We all began to board, I was so eager to get on that I was the very first one in line.

Older people, young people, men in suits, women in every stage of normal dress. It was all fascinating.

Then a woman that appeared to be in her 30’s came down the aisle, she stopped and looked at me, then at her ticket. I saw her eyes searching for the number.

She was rather short, barely 5 feet tall.

I saw that she was struggling to get her bag up into the overhead compartment, so I stood up and helped her. My own tiny bag sat on the floor between my legs, tucked back out of sight. All that was in it was my razor, toothbrush, and fresh socks and briefs.

Then I sat back down, and she sat next to me.

“Thank you for that.” She said.

“You are welcome, miss.” I answered.

I could smell a hint of some kind of perfume, I had no idea what is was but it was nice. An older lady came down the rows, she sat on the other side, on the outside. A man came down, she had to get up to let him sit in the other window seat.

I looked every single person over as they boarded, that long ago thought of all of these people in my head.

The lady next to me was busy doing something in her purse, I took the moment to look at her. I was now sure she was in her 30’s, her hair was dark and just over her ears, she was very pretty. She had on a light jacket over a white blouse, the skirt matched the jacket, fashionably short, leaving about four inches above her knees bare. She had the top of her blouse unbuttoned, from my angle I could see the upper edge of a frilly white bra, and a small expanse of her breast.

Her eyes came up and met mine, she caught me studying her and smiled. I felt my face flush slightly, kept my eyes carefully on her face. I saw that she had deep blue eyes.

“So are you going to San Diego also, sir?” The lady asked me.

No one had ever called me that before, I was barely 21 years old.

I nodded, suddenly feeling shy.

“Military?” She asked, smiling at me.

“Yes, Navy.” I nodded again, finding my tongue.

“My husband is in the Marines, he is over there. He has been gone for nearly six months.” She got a far away look in her eyes.

“Are you going to meet him?” I asked.

“No, I am going to live with my sister, even with my job I just could not make ends meet in Chicago. I had to sell our house.”

That started us visiting, I asked her about Chicago, she told me a few stories. I told her a few things about my own life in the suburbs East of Portland.

Voices of souls surrounded us, a few words and phrases slipped out of the background as we waited for what seemed like a long time on the runway.

We were moving finally. I felt the pressure pressing me back into the seat, it was amazing. Then we were in the air.

That was exciting to me, I was actually in the air, just like all of those airplanes I lay and watched for hours on end as a child.

I resisted the nearly overwhelming urge to jump up and go talk to everyone I could, find out who they were, where they were going, what they did. At that stage of my life, I was filled with the curiousity about nearly everything.

The woman looked pale as the plane bounced around, the weather outside was cold and raining heavily. Glancing out the window, rivers of water seemed to flow over the wings. I felt her hand slide over and grasp mine, that was a surprise but I just gripped it firmly back. I could tell she was frightened.

In short order everything was smooth, I looked over at the lady, she had her eyes squeezed tightly shut and she was still gripping my hand.

Then as the airplane slipped above the clouds, the motion settled down, the engines calmed to a steady hum.

“Oh! God, I am so sorry!” She said, opening her eyes and realizing what she was doing.

“It’s all right.” I told her, allowing her hand to slide from mine.

“It always makes me feel uneasy when we take off, I didn’t mean….” Her face was flaming now.

“It really is OK.” I smiled at her. She turned her head and looked at me, her face softened. A momentary expression I didn’t recognize crossed her face. Curiousity perhaps, or maybe she just looked closely at me for the first time.

“Thank you.” She said.

Then she began a nearly constant patter of conversation, it was like she was lonely, a bit frightened and I was available. I listened, adding a little here and there.

“I guess I am talking your ear off, sorry.” She smiled, looking me directly in the eye at one point.

“It’s OK. I don’t mind.” I told her.

“I wrote a poem about this once when I was in high school.” I added for some reason.

“Oh? Tell me.”

So I recited the short thing I wrote, then explained what I meant. How all of these people from all of these different lives ended up coming together, packed into an airplane. Then when they all arrive, they drift apart again, going in all directions, never knowing or even thinking about all of the experiences of life surrounding them. One flight, so much life on any one flight that it could fill endless books.

And everyone so close to all of that, yet so very far away. I explained that telling stories was something I was interested in, I had already decided to make the attempt at writing, creating books.

Talking to others using written words, about lives and dreams and hope and all of the things that were beautiful, and sometimes even the pain. If I could do that, create that, I could perhaps reach far more people than just speaking ever could.

“All of these people, all packed together, none of them knowing each other. So much that would be interesting, except at the end of the trip they all go on their seperate ways, forgetting they ever even saw each other.”

She smiled and nodded, seeming to understand what I was trying to say.

“That’s really kind of romantic, you are sweet.” She said.

That sounded odd to me.

“It’s always nice to chat with such a pretty lady.” I told her without thinking.

She beamed at that.


I woke up about a half hour into the flight, I had no intention of sleeping at all but the hum of the engines and the feeling of gentle motion caused that.

She was asleep also, her head was leaned over onto my shoulder. From somewhere she had gotten a blanket. Then I realized she had one hand resting on my right leg.

That was another surprise but I didn’t try to remove it because she was dozing.

A stewardess came down the aisle, asking people if they wanted anything to drink. She stopped at our row, glanced down at the lady’s hand resting on my thigh and smiled.

The lady woke up when the stewardess asked me if I wanted anything to drink. I asked for water, the stewardess asked the lady if she wanted anything, she shook her head no.

The stewardess was back in a few seconds with my water, and she handed me a small blanket.

“Here, it’s a little cool today.” she smiled.

I dropped the tray down and set the water on it, then tugged the blanket over myself. I had no more than settled into place when the woman’s hand slid back over onto my leg.

I glanced over at her, she was smiling at me. My face flushed, I was not understanding.

“What are you doing?” I asked her in a whisper.

“Shhhh! Just let me, OK? It’s going to be a long time before anyone…” Her voice trailed off as her hand slid upwards over my groin. Her body shuddered slightly, she took a quick intake of breath as she touched me.

That was a total shock, but I could not help myself, I felt my body begin to react. I glanced past her at the people in the opposite row, I could barely see them with the cabin lights turned down low.

Her hand began to stroke me through my clothing, I had no idea at all of what to say or do. Then I felt her hand begin to fumble at my zipper.

“I don’t think….” I managed. I felt the top of my trousers give way in seconds. I reached down to stop her but she just pushed my hand away.

“Shhhh! It’s all right, no one can see.” She whispered. Her hand slid inside my briefs, found me. Then her fingers wrapped around me, held me for a moment, before beginning a slow stroking.

With the vigor of youth, I was nearly instantly fully erect.

My hand moved towards her underneath the blankets with almost a mind of it’s own.

“Please, no. Don’t touch me, just relax!” She whispered. Then she began to masturbate me more firmly, her body turned slightly my way to block anyone’s view.

Nothing like this had ever happened to me before in my life. I had done some petting on dates, and even had sex a couple of times with a girl that lived just down the street from our house, but that was it.

Things like this just did not happen. Not on a crowded airplane, with people all around.

The stewardess went by, the woman next to me stopped as she did, just holding me. I glanced at the lady next to me, she was looking straight ahead, her expression completely blank.

She began again as soon as the stewardess moved on down the aisle. She knew exactly what she was doing, it felt amazing and I quickly lost my basic bashfulness.

“This is really a handful, sweetie. Just lie back and let it go.” She whispered. She was now leaning my way, her left hand busy. My mouth was open, I couldn’t answer her.

Then she reached down with her right hand and held the blanket up so no one could see, I saw her look down at me. Her hand never stopped moving, then she dropped the blanket back down.

I felt my testicles begin to tighten, then there was a flash of white in the dim light. From somewhere she had gotten a wad of tissue, as I went into a massive ejaculation she reached across and caught it.

I clamped my mouth shut to stifle the groan, her hand stayed busy as gobs of sperm erupted.

“Wow.” She muttered.

Several minutes passed after she let go, I sat there almost numb. Finally I managed to readjust and fasten my clothing.

She leaned forward and pulled a small bag out of the compartment of the seat in front of her, shoved the tissue deep inside of it.

“How was that, honey?” She asked me.

“I…wonderful, but I..why?” I asked, looking at her.

“You are going off to war, who knows what will happen? I just felt like doing something for you.” She smiled at me.

“I never dreamed that anything like this could even happen.” I said.

“That’s part of the fun, honey!” She had a huge grin.

Just then the stewardess came down the aisle with a large bag, I handed her my empty water cup, watched as the lady next to me dropped the little plastic bag in. The stewardess saw that, looked at me and grinned.

I felt myself blush again and looked away, it was clear that she knew what was going on.

Then the plane felt different, like it slowed slightly. The pilot came on the speaker and announced that we were arriving.

Soon we pulled up to the gate, I helped the lady again with her bag, grabbed mine and we stood there waiting as other passengers dragged oversize bags out of the upper compartments. We were pressed rather snugly together, I could feel the swell of her behind touching me.

I swear she pushed back slightly.

It struck me that I didn’t even know her name.

I leaned forward and whispered my name into her ear, and asked her for hers.

“It doesn’t matter. I am one of those you spoke of, just a soul.” She grinned over her shoulder.

Then the line began to move.

She stopped and looked back.

“I bet you won’t forget me, honey!” She smiled.

The last I saw of her was her walking ahead of me up the concourse.

She was right about that.

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