On Wednesday, Martha realized there were limits to her flying abilities. She could not go too far past the clouds, and she couldn't fly for more than about an hour, at first, before exhausting herself. She also started showing up on radar and was considered more than once to be something that should be shot out of the sky.

But oh, the money she would save on airline tickets.

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my bad

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The problem with flying, though, is you can't see the street signs. And the cities and states aren't laid out with colored borders along their edges.

She started studying for her pilot's license, and bought a two-way radio to take with her.

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However, she soon discovered that she couldn't get a license without getting training from a certified pilot.

The problem was that she was the craft as well as the pilot, and she couldn't carry passengers. But, if she could fly, perhaps someone else could, as well.

Thus began her quest.

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Martha signed up for classes at a flight academy. She didn't check the boxes indicating what aircraft she was wanting to fly, if she had any aircraft experience, or why she was signing up. In fact, thinking of herself as an "aircraft" reminded her that her gym membership was coming up for renewal.
After about a month of classes, she got talking with her teacher, Mr. Boyd.
"So, what are you wanting to fly when this is all done? We've covered all the types of commercial aircraft you could fly..."
"Well," said Martha, "I ... want to fly... myself."
"Well that'll be after some training with the teachers here, then you'll be able to fly all by yourself..."
"No, well... nevermind."
Martha walked out of the classroom somewhat embarrassed and perplexed as to why she even hinted at the fact that she could actually fly.
Mr. Boyd thought to himself for a second... maybe he wasn't as alone in this world as he once thought...

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She walked home in a slight daze, she was thinking about why she had almost revealed her secret to Mr Boyd. It could have been disastrous. She began to quickly glance around, searching for the telltale signs of secret organization agents in black vans.
"Too many movies." she muttered to herself.

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That night, Mr. Boyd looked up Martha's address, then--went for a little flight.

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He slowly meandered through the sky, using air currents to mitigate the strain of his flight, until he arrived at his destination... but alas, there was no car in the driveway...
It seemed like Martha was never home, but she never mentioned any side trips on the way home, and always claimed to read in the light of the front window.
Dejected, Mr. Boyd drifted off toward home, just missing the flutter of a curtain as it fell back into place; a delicate hand retrieving a book dropped in surprise.

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She stood her gaze unfocused as the realization of the sight of Mr. Boyd floating above her window moved through her. She was not alone.

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She darted out the window in hot pursuit. It was several blocks before he noticed her, and pulled up to greet her.
"I--I thought I was the only one."
"No." Mr. Boyd smiled slightly. "There's several of us."

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