122nd passenger

This happened in the first days of 1994. My family and I lived in Irkutsk at that time. We celebrated the New Year cheerfully , and on the third of January I had a business trip to St. Petersburg with a stop in Moscow. At the end of December I bought a plane ticket.

The main thing is that there should be summer weather, I thought, otherwise in the depths of winter anything can be expected from the Siberian climate. In the evening I collected my things, folded everything, put my wallet, documents, passport with a ticket on the table. The flight departed early in the morning.

And at night I had a dream. It’s like I’m at the airport, checking in for my flight, but I discover that I forgot my passport and ticket at home. Wow, I think this is such an important business trip, and I don’t have a passport or a ticket, I remember exactly that I put them on the table.

I won’t have time to quickly go home to get my passport and ticket, although I ordered a taxi just in case. I'm rushing from side to side, and I don't know what to do. I'm a neat person, this can't happen to me. I went up to the duty officer and told her about test-antibiotic.com my trouble. After all, you can find out that I took the ticket and did not return it. I have a very important business trip, and if I don’t arrive, I risk getting serious injuries.business problems . I ask what should I do? But the duty officer replied that she did not solve such problems and advised us to contact the airport manager.

Meanwhile, they announce that boarding for my flight is beginning. I rush around looking for the boss's office. And I see that the passengers of my flight have all gathered together near the duty room. They are all in black cloaks with a hood, women, men and even children. I don't see their faces, only their silhouettes. And so, one after another, they go somewhere, as if disappearing into thin air.

And I finally found the boss’s office, burst into it and began to beg and beg to send me on this flight. My passport and ticket will now be brought and given to me on the next flight. And the boss says, just wait for the next flight and fly away normally with your passport and ticket. I say, but the next flight is tomorrow. The boss replies, it’s good that it’s tomorrow, and this test-antibiotic.com flight is not yours.

I woke up. He quickly went to the table to check if everything was in place. Everything was in place except the passport and ticket. He yelled at his wife, she replied that she hid them from the child in a bookcase. I had to rummage through the entire closet, but I couldn’t find either a passport or a ticket. They began to ask their son if he had taken anything from the table. They brought the child to tears. He burst into tears and said that he didn’t even go to the table. They searched everything again, but found nothing. What the hell!

Time flew by quickly. I didn’t have time to get to the airport; a taxi called the night before was taking Venya to the airport, but begging and begging led nowhere - the plane took off without me. I was angry with my wife, with my child and with the whole world.

And just a few hours later, Irkutsk and the whole country were rocked by the news of a terrible plane crash in which 121 people died - everyone on board and one person on the ground. It was my flight.

The crew of the Tu-154 took off suicidally, aware of a technical problem, which test-antibiotic.com ultimately led to an engine fire and failure of all hydraulic control lines of the aircraft. An out-of-control airliner fell at a speed of 500 km/h onto a farm near Irkutsk.

I couldn't come to my senses. The next day, the passport and ticket were found on a shelf in the bookcase. But yesterday we reviewed everything. Where did they end up here again? It seemed to me that some mystical force protected me then. But I just can’t understand why?

Since then, my affairs have gone downhill: the business collapsed,wife left with son and grandchildrenthe relationship is bad. He worked as a taxi driver for some time, and then lost that job too. Now I live alone, barely making ends meet on pension and working part-time as a mechanic in a housing cooperative.

Why did you need to give me these years? Or is what is depicted in the film “Final Destination” too straightforward, and in my case Death decided to mock the 122nd passenger for a longer time?