Brandon Pedler

English 2010
8:00 AM 9:40 PM
Touched the Face of God

I sit there unmoving, for what seems like an eternity. A dashed line
stretches out before me, painted on dark asphalt, baking in the heat of the
day. It is a serene, almost perfect moment, where all cares in the world seem
to slip away from my busy mind, and I focus on my task ahead.
Finally, the time comes. I push forward on a control, and twin beasts
roar to life. I move forward, albeit slowly at first, until I overcome my inertia
and acceleration takes hold. I laugh at Sir Isaac Newton. If he could only see
what I am doing a few hundred years after he made his so called laws.
Then, gently, the next moment of perfection comes. Another motion,
as I pull back with my arms. I start to fall backwards, but something prevents
me from hitting the ground. I leave the earth with a slight caress, a parting
lovers touch, and then I am above it all.
I ascend rapidly, the people and cars and cares of the world become
increasingly small and unimportant. I have left all that behind. I am beyond
the reach of man and his busy little world.
I set a course, fly myself higher and faster than I ever thought possible.
I watch the birds scatter before me. Even these creatures know that I am the
master of their skies. While they fight incessantly among themselves, I am

like a god passing by, paying only the smallest heed to these near
insignificant creatures.
This is what I live for, to become the master of my own fate. Here, no
one can touch what I have become, or deny me the freedom to go where I
want to go, or do what I wish to do. I feel as if the craft around me is an
extension of my very will and desire.
I know that it is not on my own that I have arrived here. I am standing
on the shoulders of proverbial giants. Great men that came before me and
my time. They made this possible, and in the still humble corner of my heart,
I thank them. But this is my time, my moment, and I am the master of my
fate.
I continue to climb, my wings snatching at the increasingly thinner air
as I ascend. In front of me are puffy, happy little clouds. I wheel and dodge
between them, occasionally allowing one of my wingtips to graze one. I
watch as the air currents from my passage deform the white substance from
its former state. I almost feel like an artist.
As time passes, I settle into a near state of reverence. Apart from the
engines, which are like the sound of a distant crowd, things are silent. The
radio does not talk, and God is my only companion. I reflect on the words of
another aviator, long since passed away.
Up, up the long delirious burning blue, Ive topped the windswept
heights with easy grace, where never lark, or even eagle flew: and, while

with silent lifting mind Ive trod, the high untrespassed sanctity of space, put
out my hand, and touched the face of God.

SDP
For this paper, the genre for the piece was the flash memoir. I feel that
I have done a good job at fulfilling the expectation of the reader of this
genre. The writing is personal in nature, and is in the first person. It is a small
snippet of my own life and has obvious emotional attachment.
I believe I have improved my writing by reading my work multiple
times before making edits. Before this assignment, I would read my piece
through only once before making changes to it. This time, I allowed myself to
examine the structure and flow and feeling of the writing as a whole before
making a decision on what to change. I ended up changing very little, and
found myself adding something instead. I added a whole new paragraph
that was not part of my initial writing.
In order to improve the design of my piece, I cut out a few things that
were confusing to the ready. Some of my sentence structure, specifically in
the second paragraph was confusing to readers. I tried to shift away from
that, or change the wording in order to make it more clear for the reader.