Plane Stories

"What’s dat stuff on your face, mistuh? What is it?" Mark Cahill tried to pretend he was asleep. But the high-pitched young voice was penetrating, and persistent. His day had been filled with an early departure and a long, rough connecting flight that included two even rougher landings. Now this. And LaGuardia was over an hour away. Still, he could recognize defeat. With a sigh, Mark opened his eyes and looked towards the...

My eyelids are sealed shut with a dried mix of sand and saltwater, courtesy of the scalding sun. It’s so quiet, save for the waves surging over the packed sand, and the occasional frenzy of caws and flapping wings as the native birds duel over who consumes the next meal. It’s the strange silence that causes me to finally overcome my exhaustion and attempt to open my eyes-I’m a city girl who finds comfort in the many lives...