This work is copyright M.A. Mohanraj 1994, all rights reserved. Please don't repost this or make it publically accessible via FTP, mail server, or archive site without my explicit permission.
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We climbed higher, gaining altitude on the first leg of our trip across the Atlantic, bound for England at Christmastime, December 1992. She sat rigid beside me, hands clenched, knuckles white against the metal of the armrests. We'd had a drink while waiting in the airport, and she'd just ordered another from our flight attendant in his white and blue uniform, slightly rumpled. Maybe if she got sufficiently drunk she'd relax enough to survive this trip. You know I love flying.