A baby crying for the tenth time cuts an attempted nap short. Why is it legal to bring those bouncy, screaming, itty bitties onto a plane? Can someone stuff a binkie in his mouth?
A shrill scream reverberates from the child.
"Sweet mother of Christ..." I massage my temples in grief.
For the next hour I cradle my head until the plane lands. I grab my bottle, down a handful of pills, and haul my things onto aching shoulders.
Once out of the white canister of 20+ people, I start gathering the last of my luggage.
"I'm not dying, I only feel like it." I mutter in a sing song voice as I bend over the luggage conveyor belt.
"Good, it would be a sin for someone so pretty to die." A man quickly walks by, giving an equally creepy and flirty opinion I didn't ask for.
Whatever dude. It's not like I'll see your creepy ass again. I'm gonna grab my bags, and you'll disappear into obscurity.
At the time I didn't notice the note he placed in my pocket.