I was slowing my trajectory as I reached the troposphere.
Those planes detected me and rushed me like falcons diving after rabbits.
Their peregrine-like sights and velocity became terrifying.
I wanted to say farewell to those that cared, but I wasn’t ready to be usurped.
I’m the king of the skies.
Watch me defend the throne.
I imagined myself ascending right at the divebombing jets with fists clenched blazing.
That punch landed right on the planes nose and it exploded on impact.
It was a shame that I was engulfed in flames. You’re welcome, cruel world.
C. M. B. Bell's Writing Universe 