Florrie was not one to sit back and let life stop because she was getting older. For her seventy-fifth birthday she had organised a parachute jump. She would be strapped to a hopefully handsome muscular young man and they would jump out of the plane. He would guide her safely to the ground.
Well, the truth was, upon arrival at the venue Florrie discovered that the young man wasn’t as muscular and strapping as she’d hoped. That didn’t greatly matter of course; she was in it for the big jump.
And jump they did! Happy seventy-fifth, Florrie! It was most unfortunate that the parachute didn’t open.
Flora was married to Ken. Ken ran a company that organised recreational parachute jumps. He’d done it for fifteen years and not once had there been an accident. Ken was renowned for care.
The thing that most annoyed Ken about Flora was that she never once had the courage to do a parachute jump. Their good friend, Opal, was forever jumping. Of course, Ken always let her take a jump for free.
“She’s the perfect parachutist,” Ken used to say. “I don’t know why Flora won’t take a jump.”
Then one day, Flora said she would. Up she went in the plane. She was too scared to jump.
Ken pushed her out. He phoned Opal. Ken’s plane hadn’t even landed, although Flora had.
“The coast is clear,” he said. “Flora’s no longer on the radar. Pack your bags. We two are taking off.”