It was only once we were airborne that we learned that our pilot was a horse.
The stewardess introduced him, and all we heard from the intercom was snorting.
“A horse?” we asked.
“He’s a very clever horse, sir,” said the stewardess, “He’s probably the cleverest horse in the stable.”
“But how can he operate the controls? He’s got hooves.”
“It was the new owner’s idea, sir. Besides, it’s mostly autopilot these days.”
By this time we were over the Atlantic, and I had to admit that the flight had been very smooth. I asked the stewardess what the in-flight meal would be.
“I’m afraid it was the new owner’s idea, sir,” she said.
“What’s the meal?”
“Hay.”
# # #
This is a 100-word (or thereabouts) flash fiction story, prompted by the picture you can see up there, as part of Friday Fictioneers.
Click here if you’d like to take part, and click here to read other pieces.
Simon John Cox 
Yeah, I hate those airlines pinching pennies every where first non-union (and nonhuman) pilots and then cheaping out on the in-flight meal… Funny.
Strange little story, a kind of Alice in Wonderland. Me like it. :)
And I bet he had to drink through a straw! At least hay is part of a staple diet. Thanks for the smile.
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That was fun. I like the absurdity. Having a horse as pilot is better for the meals than total computer autopilot. They’d offer you a battery…
Made me :-)
If horses are going to fly the planes I think they should be required to learn English. Great story. :)