🟣 The Silent Sphere Below the Wing

Final approach into the Big Apple is usually a photo op. The statue in the harbor, the skyline glowing, that moment when you think you can smell pizza from two thousand feet up. One passenger on a late-night flight had something different to look at. A smooth metallic sphere was sliding just beneath the wing, close enough to make you wonder if the pilot had called for a sidecar.

It had no lights and no sound. It did not bob or drift like a balloon. The sphere moved with the plane perfectly, as if it was matching heartbeat for heartbeat. For several long seconds it stayed in place, reflecting a warped patchwork of city lights and clouds. Then, as if it had seen enough, it peeled away into the dark and was gone. The witness was left staring at empty air and wondering why it had come so close.

Some say New York is full of watchers. Security cameras, window gossips, pigeons with questionable hobbies. This was something else. The kind of company you do not realize you have until it is already gone.

✈️ The Close Escort
If it was a balloon, turbulence would have made it dance. If it was a drone, the FAA would have had a fit. This felt like a cosmic co-pilot who forgot to place their coffee order.