Blinding flash, then a mousy-haired girl hands me shots off a tray. It's a godawful small affair.
We're suddenly falling, closed in this plane that's become a death capsule, while the Devil on the screen jeers "ZAmbooooo".
Earthbound, speed multiplying by the second, the shock of our weightlessness takes a backseat to the knowledge there'll be nothing left of us to grieve.
I know I could call on Castiel, or maybe call on God. I could keep on calling till I'm answered.
Though I know I could fall, and I could keep on falling…