Vrrrrrrrrroooom! Even though he griped about his current job, the sound of planes brightened up Makiki's mornings. The best part: it wasn't a recorded alarm. Yes. Actual planes were flying overhead. And he'd be flying one. Someday. Makiki shared it with four other mechanics but if you knew him, you could tell which bed was his at a single glance. His unkept bed had maintenance books and aviation magazines strewn about. The corner walls, one which his bed was wedged against, were papered with airplanes and a few pictures.
Waking up to the powerful roar of the planes, Makiki yawned and stretched, knocking over a few books in the process. He walked over to a small closet, also crammed with aircraft memorabilia, and took out a neatly folded uniform and work boots. They were practically the only organized and tidy things about his living space...and his life. He searched for his face in the mirror amidst they layer of airplane pictures and said, "Huh, well damn. I'm growing a beard…Gotta borrow a razor from one of the guys." He shrugged, adjusted his goggles, and walked out the door; pretty sure that he'd be ready to survive a days work of patching wings, repairing struts and polishing hubcaps