Her forehead was crushed and in one look, it was obviously that I had just killed this little girl. Little girl? Well not really. She had breasts. She...had hips. I had just killed a miniature woman. I was shocked, crushed, confused and panicked. Suddenly, behind me came a shout, “You killed her. You killed my elf.” I spun around and there before me was Santa Claus himself. Now I am a grown woman. I don’t believe in Santa. It wasn’t just his suit, it was his face, his demeanor and his spirit,. The old airplane was in pretty good shape, I had picked her up for just $3500, an amazing figure even in 1975. It only took me 10 hours of instruction from the crabby old man I hired to teach me to fly it. That part was pretty easy, the certified instructor was right there at the airport where I bought the machine. ‘Remember any damn fool can land an airplane, they always come down. Getting her in the air is the trick.’ He grinned at me. I was thinking landing was the hard part and said so.. More

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