Douglas was back to skipping classes, and he wasn't even sorry. Being a medical student wasn't as fun as he'd always thought, nor was he looking forward to actually becoming a doctor; the worst part of it was that he didn't have the slightest idea of what he wanted to be, though he was still confident it would come to him in a flash of inspiration sooner or later.
He was strolling through the park, sparing an appreciative eye for the lovely girls that had taken advantage of the sunny afternoon to go jogging, when someone bumped into him and very nearly knocked him down. A rather small someone, who gulped down a sob and looked far too terrified to apologise properly.
"Hello there," he murmured gently. "Everything tickety-boo, little one?"
The young boy sniffled and shook his head. "N-no."
"Care to tell me what happened?" Teary eyes looked up at him, and he couldn't help but ruffle the kid's hair. "Where's your Mum?"
"I hate her. D-don't want to see her again."
He raised a quizzical eyebrow. "Why ever not?"
"She laughed at me, said I can't be an aeroplane."
It took all of Douglas' willpower not to chuckle at such an extravagant statement; the boy looked miserable already, and he didn't want to make him cry.
"Why do you want to be an aeroplane?" he asked instead, not quite expecting the excited look that lit up the boy's eyes.
"Because aeroplanes can fly!"
"I see," he smiled in front of such enthusiasm. "Tell you what, there's something even better than being a plane."
"What is it?" the boy muttered in disbelief.
"Being an airline captain, of course. He's the one flying the plane."
"Oh," his little friend exhaled in something close to pure delight. "Thank you."
With that he spurted away, and Douglas watched in amusement as his ginger curls bounced about his head as he ran. Airline captain – that wasn't such a bad idea after all, he mused as he turned around and left.
The following day he sent his application to the nearest flying school, feeling more chipper than he'd been in quite a long time.