The Time is Now

When I woke up, it took me a second to realize that I was not in my own bed, but in an airplane over the sea. This is quite ironic, I think to myself as I hum the tune I previously had stuck in my head. I glance out the window to see the miles and miles of abyss that lie ahead. Suddenly the plane takes a sharp turn to the left. I fall to the ground, and quickly pick myself back up. Who’s piloting this thing? I start making my way through the isles of empty chairs and seemingly left behind luggage. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of a small red corner peeking out from within the pocket of a chair on my right. With one swift movement, the envelope is now in my possession. Should I open it now? Eh, perhaps not. My mind is left too curious about the still-hidden wonders this plane has to offer. I am now almost near the cockpit, when a sudden chatter stops me in my tracks. I turn my head up towards the overhead bin and find myself making eye contact with a monkey. He is rather small, and as I notice further is dressed up just like a vintage jolly chimp. The red and white striped pants and eerie grin he gives me make me step back. Why am I here?  His miniature symbols start to clash, jolting me almost as much as the plane’s previously swerves. I run towards the cockpit, I need to meet this pilot. I approach the front of the plane, only to find there is no way to access it. Just then, the monkey I had met earlier swings over, jumping from chair to chair, almost as if trying to boast his talent. “Try the envelope, won’t you?” Alright alright, I say. I unfold the red envelope seal with caution, at this point anything could be inside. At first I see nothing. But as I bring my eye closer, I see a green pocket watch the size of my pinky nail. Naturally curious about what time it is, I pick it up to check. The time is now, the pocket watch reads. The monkey senses my confusion. “What you’re looking for is right in front of you,” he says with a mouthful of Biscoff cookie he had picked up from beneath a seat. I look in front of me once more to find a purple button with the bolded word reading PRESS. I do as it says and suddenly the cockpit opens. “Hello,” I hear an old voice say. I am greeted by what seems to be the pilot. His eyes are cheerful and full of life, his glasses round and fit to his thinning face. His outfit is what is most puzzling. He wears a mustard colored cardigan, covered in small red stains near the collar. He notices me staring. “Ketchup,” he says. I sit down beside him. “Where exactly am I?” I say hesitantly. He offers a gentle smile, “Wherever you like, this plane is yours now. I’ve just been watching it for you while you were unable. Take a look at where we are now.” I stand up to see what lies ahead. The plane slowly starts to descend and I see the fog clear, unveiling the most beautiful life I have ever seen.