At gate E-15 of the Philadelphia International airport the passengers lined up in number order. Cathy was number 'A-27'. 'This is kind of like the Holocaust', she thought.
Cathy looked at the other passengers waiting in line. Her flight was filled with old men, business men, old business men, a little girl, and her cat.
Cathy thought 'if there is a God, he could be OK with this plane crashing because there are no babies on this plane. There is a little girl, but the little girl is wearing a 'Justin Bieber' t-shirt, so God would be OK with this'.
Cathy sat by the wing from fear of superstition, maybe.
Every time Cathy is on a plane during take-off, she imagines the plane exploding, bursting into flames from front to back. She imagines how much it would hurt and for how long.
Cathy was flying over what she assumed was Pennsylvania or Ohio, using the small drawing of the United States printed on her 'Southwest' napkin for reference. There was a cranberry juice stain over 'Denver'. Cathy didn't realize that is where Colorado was in proximity to the rest of the United States. Cathy was already missing Philadelphia.
Cathy contemplated eating the complimentary 'salted pretzels' or 'honey-roasted peanuts' given to her by the middle-aged, male flight attendant who was sporting a mullet and the shortest of shorts.
Cathy stared at the wing of the plane, remembering 'The Twilight Zone' episode featuring 'William Shatner' while listening to "ma-a-a-a-ales" being sung by Lars Finberg of 'Intelligence'. Far away, Cathy saw a tiny nuclear power plant billowing miniature clouds of nuclear smoke. She wished then that she could take a photo.
Cathy imagined what next summer would be like, in the ocean with Paul. Then she imagined this summer.
The 'fasten-seatbelt' light turned on. Cathy opened the 'salted pretzels'.
Cathy looked at the other passengers waiting in line. Her flight was filled with old men, business men, old business men, a little girl, and her cat.
Cathy thought 'if there is a God, he could be OK with this plane crashing because there are no babies on this plane. There is a little girl, but the little girl is wearing a 'Justin Bieber' t-shirt, so God would be OK with this'.
Cathy sat by the wing from fear of superstition, maybe.
Every time Cathy is on a plane during take-off, she imagines the plane exploding, bursting into flames from front to back. She imagines how much it would hurt and for how long.
Cathy was flying over what she assumed was Pennsylvania or Ohio, using the small drawing of the United States printed on her 'Southwest' napkin for reference. There was a cranberry juice stain over 'Denver'. Cathy didn't realize that is where Colorado was in proximity to the rest of the United States. Cathy was already missing Philadelphia.
Cathy contemplated eating the complimentary 'salted pretzels' or 'honey-roasted peanuts' given to her by the middle-aged, male flight attendant who was sporting a mullet and the shortest of shorts.
Cathy stared at the wing of the plane, remembering 'The Twilight Zone' episode featuring 'William Shatner' while listening to "ma-a-a-a-ales" being sung by Lars Finberg of 'Intelligence'. Far away, Cathy saw a tiny nuclear power plant billowing miniature clouds of nuclear smoke. She wished then that she could take a photo.
Cathy imagined what next summer would be like, in the ocean with Paul. Then she imagined this summer.
The 'fasten-seatbelt' light turned on. Cathy opened the 'salted pretzels'.
I enjoyed reading this; her mind was the story, "she imagined" I thought it was good.
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