THE AIRSTRIP AT RUNWAY NINE
Chapter I: The Champagne Toast and the Descending Plane
Under the bright midday sun over the expansive cornfields of Prairie Ridge Estates, a brand-new, asphalt private runway cut straight through the green landscape. Flanking the fresh black tarmac were blue promotional banners proclaiming: HOA PRIVATE RUNWAY PROJECT.
Gathered in neat rows of white folding chairs were dozens of wealthy subdivision homeowners and board members in crisp suits and designer dresses, clapping enthusiastically.
Standing proudly behind a wooden podium on a raised stage—right before the ceremonial red ribbon—was Linda Sterling, the association’s untouchable president. Dressed in a bright scarlet blazer, black pencil skirt, dark sunglasses, and pearl necklace, she held a microphone in one hand and raised a crystal champagne flute high into the air.
Above the horizon, the low buzz of a twin-engine private aircraft grew louder as it lined up on final approach directly over the runway.
"Today, history lands right here on our new runway!" Linda proclaimed, gesturing grandly with her champagne glass.