Mar 6, 2016
Field work wasn’t the problem. He was aware of the jokes about him and natural light, and even made them himself sometimes, but in all honesty it wasn’t really a that bad. Field work meant new samples, new subjects.
It also meant traveling to the field. That was the problem. Anywhere with fields worth working meant an extended period of barreling through the sky in a fragile metal coffin a sneeze away from a firey death.
William hated flying, and the handful of sleeping pills wasn’t kicking in quite fast enough. The sleeping pills would have a hard time working with all of the fire and screaming and tearing metal. With this much noise he’d barely be able to tell if the plane were to ....crash?
The plane crashed didn’t it.
“I KNEW IT”