The Flight I Dreamed

Over the years, I’ve had several dreams or sudden thoughts that later came true. This was one of them.

Some years ago, my husband was offered a job in Switzerland. The commute was simple: a short flight, usually smooth except for a little turbulence over the Channel. I decided to book some trips over to see him, choosing a well-known airline.

One evening, I woke from a dream that left me unsettled. In it, I was on a plane, looking out the window as fire engines greeted us on the runway. The fear and dread were so vivid that the next day I changed my ticket. I convinced myself the smaller, older aircraft I’d originally booked wasn’t safe; its rattling and noisy landing gear had never inspired confidence. A newer, larger plane felt like a better choice.

When the day came, I boarded nervously. There was a delay in takeoff, and from my window I noticed a dark mass covering another plane nearby. To my disbelief, it was a swarm of wasps, clinging to the fuselage and peppering our own windows. A chill ran through me: this was the dream.

I couldn’t leave, only sit and hope. Midway across the Channel, the plane suddenly dropped. Silence filled the cabin. The crew went pale, and the captain calmly announced we would need to turn back due to a technical issue. No one spoke. The fear was thick enough to hear a pin drop.

We landed in Geneva with one engine down, damaged by wasps sucked inside. Fire engines lined the runway exactly as I had dreamt. When we touched down, the cabin erupted in relieved applause.

That day I learned something: you can’t outmaneuver fate by changing airlines. I still wonder if the outcome would have been the same had I stayed on the smaller, rattling plane.