This is the very start of The Friendly Skies. Just a teaser, the first page.
The rain peppered down onto the tarmac in tiny bursts of steam. It had been a hot day and as each drop of rain fell against the backdrop of the orange and purple setting sun they disintegrated on the hot pavement and evaporated straight back up. The passengers ran from the airport terminal doors towards the two mobile staircases that seemed to prop the plane up.
Some people held up newspapers, some held up their hands and some people hooded their jumpers and jackets for protection. One industrious lady even had an umbrella on hand; she had checked the weather forecast on the Internet before she left the house. This type of behaviour meant that she was always prepared, but not always very well liked.
Jake Green walked towards the plane. It was actually more like an amble, a slow stroll through the countryside. All there was to see were other planes and a vast expanse of nothing much else, but Jake was in no hurry. Why run to the plane when you were going to have to wait on the stairs anyway? Most people needed to be physically led to their seat, sat down and buckled in before they knew what was going on.
People were already bottle necked at the top of each stairwell. For all their hurry they were still getting wet. Not even wet though, just a little moist. The plane’s hyper-controlled humidity deficient atmosphere would soon sort out any problems of moisture.
The cool drops of rain were soothing on Jake’s neck. He loosened his orange tie and let the soothing silk of rain invade the territory on the back of his neck. The coolness felt good. All day long he had been trapped in his suit. Locked in like a sardine in a can. Or a large wolf in a baby lamb’s wool.
Jake was ready to shed his snakeskin and get back to nature. His nature. The nice guy. The rain would wash him of his sins. The rain would clear away the dirt that lived on his mind.
He would board the plane a new man. Or more truthfully, he would board the plane again his old self. When he arrived home there would be no evidence of his visit, of his work. While others scurried in from the rain, or at least tried to, Jake waltzed with it on his path back home.