Flight

A flash fiction of sorts: Adrian Patenaude grew up in Thailand among petite people with dark hair and dark eyes. College approached abruptly, interrupting a pleasant childhood, and she boarded the humming airplane, tripping down the aisles past tired tourists and frazzled frequent flyers, her mind buzzing with to-dos and questions and worst case scenarios, until she finally collapsed in the narrow window seat and could voice her hesitant hopes. Ears stuffed with music, she relaxed as the runway dropped away. Growing colder, she pulled off the plastic around the blanket and tucked herself in. Instead of sleeping when the lights turned off, she watched movie after movie to take her mind off the journey. Knowledge of the increasing distance between her and her home settled deeper. Mountains replaced valleys and beaches replaced mountains, until only a blue expanse remained. “Oceans away.” Quietly, she stepped across her neighbor and stretched past sleeping passengers to the bathroom. Someone turned the VACANT sign to OCCUPIED just as she reached the door.