Flight 1293

Anna

Anna looked ahead at the shortening line and watched as the herd closed in on the airport security gate. Her intestines churned as a bead of sweat fell from the soft fold underneath her left breast. She knew she could have requested a private screening, but this would have belied her resolute belief in her body, the trust she has in its inherent strength and beauty. She removed her shoes and backpack, and with trembling hands placed them in the plastic bin and sent them down the moving belt. Anna bent to lift the leg of her jeans to just below her knee, revealing the prosthetic that was as familiar and as much a part of her body as her hands.

A pasty, mustached guard motioned her through and began the standard procedure to swab her prosthetic for explosive residue. Some people looked away in an attempt at respect, while others watched with fixed eyes. She wanted to head butt the guard; elbow him in the windpipe; send the titanium right between his legs. His labored mouth-breathing delivered rank coffee breath directly to her nostrils.

When he finished, Anna lowered her jeans, shoved her feet into her shoes, and grabbed her pack. She inhaled deeply, felt the integrity of her body, its completeness, then turned and headed toward her gate.


Marvin

Marvin was a large man, 6’6”, 350 pounds. Flying was not easy, nor was it enjoyable. He avoided it when he could, but this time he could not. His Uncle Murray had passed and he was determined to pay his respects, even if it meant the awkwardness and humiliation of air travel.

Everything was a squeeze from the moment he handed his ticket to the attendant and entered the walkway. The walls of the tunnel closed in around him, his steps rocked the bridge to the plane even though he tried to tread softly. As he stepped onto the plane he held his arms tightly at his sides and turned sideways through the door. He saw the dread flash across the pilot and attendants faces, then shift back to the standard mannequin smiles. He’d been forced to fly first class for the few extra inches it provided. By the time he was 18, Marvin’s knees would push up against the seat in front of him, shifting its occupant forward and toward increasing annoyance.

He found his seat on the aisle and ducked into it. Marvin hoped no one would be sitting next to him. He struggled for a moment to extend the seatbelt, but it was stuck. Tiny pearls of sweat formed on top of his shaven head. One of the attendants moved toward him.
“May I help you with that, sir?”
“Thank you.” Marvin pushed back into the seat as she leaned across him to pull the seatbelt looser. Her sugary smile encouraged him. He smelled her hair. He wanted to hold her tiny head in his hands, wanted to circle his thumb and index finger around her bird-like wrist. Women liked him. Liked his mass. If there was one thing Marvin had learned in his 38 years it was this: Women liked to feel small.


Elaine

The crotch of Elaine’s pantyhose now resided three inches below where it should have. The waistband of the control top hose was not controlling anything. Instead it had rolled down creating a rubber band of sorts that dug into the fleshiest part of her belly, creating an uncomfortable roll of that sighed over the top of the hose and pressed against the waistband of her skirt.

She pushed the idea of a hot flash far from her mind as the heat rose up from behind her neck, swept over her head and face, and spread across her chest like flame. She’d missed the chance to remove her blazer and now it was too late. The sweat would have created large stains on her silk blouse that she couldn’t possibly expose.

Elaine rose to retrieve her bag from the overhead bin so she could prep for the meeting once more. As she lifted her arms, a sour, yeasty smell closed in around her. She was quite certain what she smelled was herself. She’d changed time zones so many times in the past month she’d lost track and had not set her alarm correctly. There had been no time to shower in her rush to get to the airport. She was not prepared for the meeting, she missed her bed and her cat, she was drenched in sweat, and she was hungry. She was beginning to not like people very much. Elaine had been on this plane for too long.