Of course I remember that flight.
The change in the headwind when the motor sped up, and the sheer volume of the machinery.
The lurch when the flyer lifted off its rail was more familiar, from the unpowered models I’d piloted.
Over-sensitive controls exaggerated small motions, so the flyer leapt in the air roughly. At least the altitude would mean greater distance.
After the landing, the pride and hope in my mother’s eyes burned. Maybe now we could get a sponsor for a lighter motor, a craft that could carry a grown-up, rather than a twelve yearold girl.
So, I'm attempting the April A to Z challenge, with fiction with at most 100 words. "A is for Aviatrix came from Royce Day. B is written, too, but if you have prompts for later in the alphabet, please give them to me.