TITLE: Flight Club
GENRE: Adult women's fiction
My godmother Pam used to say a woman’s mind is like an airplane—quick, powerful, and built to soar. Pam worked in-flight in the eighties and nineties, when flight attendants were called stewardesses, and the general public could hang out at airport gates without boarding passes. As a wide-eyed kid back home on the bayou, Pam’s stories were the only ones I’d come in off the water for. She was so worldly and wise. I wanted to grow up to be just like her.
Ironically, my mind feels more like a swamp boat stuck in the mud than a high-flying airplane, due to the surly-eyed passenger towering over me in the aircraft aisle.
If this guy glares any harder, he’ll burst a blood vessel and ruin his sleek navy suit.
I steady my breath, while the scarf at my neck tightens into a vise-like grip. Calm and focused, I can do this.
“Please take a seat, sir,” I say.
The man’s brow furrows deeper. “Tell your captain to open that door and get me back up to the gate. I need to find my phone. It’s life or death. ”
Smartphones pop up, one by one, from the leather seats at either side of the aisle. Behind them, their owners remain poised and ready. Great. I don’t suppose they’d wait for me to freshen up my lip gloss before recording. I’d really like to look nice when my epic fail goes viral.