The Flyby.

“Hey, Rob. You with me man?” I focused my attention, a return trip from lost in space.

“Sorry, Phil. Not all here at the moment.” An understatement if ever there was one.

Understanding showed in my friend’s eyes. “No worries. I was only talking about plans for after we land. These conventions are great for connections and a few The Flyby by Ronovan Hesterbook sales but I like hitting a few spots not on the agenda.”

His smile made it evident to me his spots and my spots would not connect to form a picture of Central Park and the historic apartment buildings adjacent. “I plan to tour the city and get a feel for some of the architecture and people, take some notes, get the atmosphere of it all for a book idea I have swirling around in this old brain of mine.”

“Rob, you need to have some fun, and I don’t mean with buildings and tour guides, unless the tour guide is a little blonde.”

Friend is not the right word to describe the affiliation Phil Marks and I have. We both belong to the same writing group in the area. And when traveling, we did so together to have company and sometimes to split costs of rooms and fees. Colleagues, that’s the right word to use.

“Not quite up for that.” I didn’t smile. I was not in the habit of encouraging things I didn’t like. Why placate?

“I get it. It takes time. It took me almost a month after my split before I got back in the game.” Phil turned and focused on the security process of the busiest airport in the world.

He did not get it. It was not about recovering from a divorce, it was my not being a party guy. I liked my quiet time, visiting historic places in the cities I traveled to, and taking my notes for future books that might never happen.

Phil wrote books to get one thing, I wrote to get something else. Those two things were about as far from each other as one could get. You could tell from our books’ topics what those reasons for writing were.

Phil passed through and it was my turn.


“Mom, we’re fine. You enjoy yourself.”

John hugged me and stepped back. “You take care of your sister, understand?” I attempted a stern look. I failed.

“That’s Uncle Drew’s job. I’ve got a game to focus on, not some princess. Ow!”

“Don’t call me princess!” Lena uncurled her fist and hugged me even tighter than her brother had. “I want a T-shirt, okay?”

“I knew there was something behind the ferocity of the hug.” I smiled and looked at the beautiful girl, almost eye to eye with me. A few more months and I would be the shortest in the family.

“No, but a shirt would be cool.”

“I know, dear. Drew, are you certain these two will not be a trouble?”

My younger brother shook his head. “With my brood, who’s going to notice two more?”

“If this had only been next weekend their father would have them and no imposing on you.” There were still a few sorting pains over the managing of situations such as this. The divorce was going along fine, but the little things still popped up that were new and caused brief headaches. Precedents could not be set to undermine the plans put in place. This weekend was my responsibility.

“Just go. You’ll miss your flight.”

Drew and I hugged the quick hug of adult siblings, and with a smile and wave, I turned, pulled my bag behind me, and joined the queue for the security check. My mind went to the sites I wanted to see after landing. Traveling alone had its advantages. There would be no biggest whatever store in the world for me.

I looked up and caught the security people looking at me. Great, I was going to get extra attention, again. And then there were the disadvantages.


“Mind me taking the window?” Phil sat and stared through the small glass panel.

“No, I’ll most likely take a nap.”

“Awesome, thanks.”

They do not make planes with people my height in mind. Not even seated yet, my knees hinted at not being able to stretch when needed. I glanced up to the other passengers making their way to their seats. Now that, is the height I would like to be for flights.

Dark hair swirled around and I could see the woman’s face. Pretty. I’m glad Phil was looking out the window, I knew what he would say, and I did not want to hear it. She was classy looking, intelligent. Phil would spoil it with some vulgar suggestions.

She glanced up before turning to sit down. A weird feeling went through me.


Do I know him? He has that look on his face as if he knows me. Something about him is familiar. But I’m mistaken for someone people know all the time. So many Americans cannot tell the difference from one Asian nation to the next. But he does look familiar.


This is going to drive me insane. Where do I know her from? The headache was beginning. It would be a migraine before New York. Why couldn’t I let mysteries stay mysteries?

My entry for the Friday Fiction with Ronovan Writes Prompt Challenge. Also a continuation of a story begun last week in The Library Date. Also visit Using Proofing To Help Your Fiction Diction & More! for some tips in regards to tools to assist you in improving your writing.

Ronovan Hester is an author, with his debut historical adventure novel Amber Wake: Gabriel Falling due out in December of 2015. He shares his life as an amnesiac and Chronic Pain sufferer through his blog His love of poetry, authors and community through his online world has lead to a growing Weekly Haiku Challenge , a Weekly Fiction Prompt Challenge, and the creation of a site dedicated to book reviews, interviews and author resources known as

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