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Return to Flying
#1
I'm at a base again looking for a bank. For some reason, I have my guitar and case strapped to my back, but the strap is now tearing away from the case. This is metaphoric for me personally. I'm walking around and get instructions to drive to the right a mile and then all the way back for 2 miles to find the bank. There is something in between us that is forcing me to go all the way around...a river? I don't remember.

I drive around and get close to the area that I was told it would be. It's not there. I see another building that could be a bank. I step inside everyone is about to leave for the day. I stop them and ask about this bank, and they point to an area that back on the "other side." I ask how to get there, and they just point. It looks like a public park from afar. I don't see anything that looks like a bank. I look down and notice that I'm carrying a pistol. Why did I bring that into the bank, and why hasn't anyone said anything?

It is so far that somehow I know that I need to fly to get there on time. I find myself in a cessna putzing along really slow. Fighters are passing me. I really hope they see me. Maybe I should descend a bit. Suddenly I find myself in a fighter squadron again. I'm going back into the AF. Everything seems normal, and I'm preparing to give my speech. I'm confident. I know everyone will like it. I will begin in January 2015.
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