Friendly Skies

I struck up a conversation with a fire-tressed goddess. We bonded over our preflight jitters and she entered the cabin on my arm. The lights dimmed and her knuckles went white in my hand. I held my breath. She vomited on my loafers, and I fell in love. Sipping 7-Up at 30,000 feet, she let me stroke her hair, but my head was in the clouds—it couldn’t last. Our flight paths diverged in Milwaukee, our descent having been quick and inevitable. I wished her safe travels on her trip to Atlanta, or wherever her heart’s final destination might be.



Drew Dillon has dual English degrees from CSU Long Beach, and is working on his first YA novel. His work has appeared in Union Weekly Magazine and at

Photo Credit: Sarah Heam

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