Stories · Curiosities · Questionable Ideas · Rather a Lot of Imagination · Farah Sam · Author & Creator ·
Up, Up, and Away (Sort Of)
We have finally taken to the sky in Granny's sturdy red aeroplane, though how we are staying airborne with so many biscuit tins is a complete scientific mystery.
MAX SPARKLY DIARIES JOURNAL
Max Sparkly
6/7/20261 min read
Max’s Diary-Style Journal Entry
June 7th — Somewhere over the English Channel We have successfully left the ground, though how this red aeroplane stays in the air with so many heavy biscuit tins inside is a scientific mystery. Granny Maple is at the controls, singing a rather jaunty sea shanty at the top of her lungs while the propeller hums a steady, top-hole tune.
"Keep your eyes peeled for flying fish, dears!" Granny shouted over the engine roar, which is mathematically impossible at this altitude.
Tilly is strapped into the seat next to me, wearing her bright orange life-jacket. I told her there are no oceans in the middle of the sky, but she giggled and said, "What if a cloud leaks, Max? Or what if the sky runs out of blue?" Suddenly she leaned over and whispered, "If the engine stops, Sir Bark-A-Lot can flap his ears!" It was remarkably clever, in a terrible sort of way, and it made me feel very uneasy indeed.
Sir Bark-A-Lot has appointed himself co-pilot and has already caused a major disturbance by licking the back of my neck while I was plotting our longitude. He then successfully sneezed directly onto the altimeter dial. The sky is a beautiful, deep indigo, and the stars look like tiny silver buttons sewn onto a blanket. I am trying to keep my handwriting straight, but Granny just went over a rather bouncy cloud, and my inkpot nearly took flight.
This is highly un-sensible.
Also rather dizzying.
Crumbs. I hope the dog doesn't try to chew the landing gear.
Explorer’s Notes
OFFICIAL LOG: Flight charts and navigation records. Strictly no paws allowed on the controls.
Current Altitude: Very high indeed (higher than the Pickleberry church spire).
Tilly’s Counter-Log: Left a sticky honey-drop wrapper inside my chart drawer. Frightfully bad manners.
Expedition Status: Sir Bark-A-Lot has successfully sneezed on the altimeter dial. Splendid.