The moon rose above the lake turning the calm surface to surreal silver.  The small islands with there stunted evergreens extending over the banks were clearly visible in the pale light. Looking from the lake toward the mainland was like looking at a black wall, clearly ending and defined by the jagged night sky above the trees. The eerie scene was broken by a darting yellow and blue light, flashing with blinding brilliance one second and disappearing the next, only to return with expanded determination. Only in this brief illumination was the plane visible. It had hit the water hard, nose up and skipped once to the shore, shearing off the port wing on a boulder and nose diving into the high bank. The prop had come apart tearing through the engine and the starboard wing pouring fuel onto the shore, plane and into the water. It had struck with such force that it bounced back into the lake. The nose, or what was left of it, was barely on dry land while the rest of the fuselage was in four feet of water, resting precariously on the edge of a gravel bar. The outside of the bar dropped off into thirty feet of crystal clear, ice cold water. What was left of the prop was caught over top of a small sapling that had been mowed down and it was the only thing keeping the plane from sliding off of the gravel bar and to the bottom of the lake.
 
Sailor awoke slowly, like a boxer kissing the canvas and hearing the long count off in the distance. He was wedged between the seat and the dash. The rear of the seat frame had snapped leaving the front supports to act as a pivot, pitching Sailor forward and pinning him to the dash. As his eyes focused he caught a glimpse of light rise and then die down. Panic shot through him with a pucker factor of ten. Fire! “Well that can’t be good”, he said out loud.  Struggling to free himself he found that his right arm was wedged between his chest and the dash. The left arm was free. He tried to push himself away to make a space between himself and the dash, but nothing would budge. Then, as if things weren’t dire enough, came the sound of metal grating on gravel. Its’ significance registered at once. All of the movement trying to get free had dislodged the front of the plane. Water was also seeping into the rear of the fuselage, making the back of the plane heavier and lifting the front. Before Sailor had time to think the plane slid slowly back down the bank and out into the lake. It floated for a few brief seconds and then sank. The moon revealed the widening ripples upon the mirror like surface and a loon cried in the distance.
 
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