Sex in the Airport Closet

Two travelers, both tired, sit adjacent to each other among others. Both coming from Wichita, Kansas to North Point, Maine. It wasn’t exactly a long flight. A couple hours, the layover in Boston added to it. But what came over these two seemly responsible, uncharismatic, straight-laced people, we will never know.

It started with a glance. Then the horrible news of yet another delay. She took a nap and he doodled in a notebook. He tried to read, but others grabbed his attention. Especially her, in her leggings. She once got up to check on the vending machine. He glanced at her behind and the absence of her underwear. What are the chances? She returned from the vending machine with nothing.

She was far away. He couldn’t possibly make the move, let alone, having to yell over the family of six and the guy with his headphones too loud. He didn’t even attempt it. She had a boyfriend. He figured. How could she not? I mean, sure, he was in a relationship as well, but it wasn’t working out. Why make the effort? Then again, maybe that’s exactly what it’s all about — The Effort. People should put more time into what they want. It’s about the risk, he told himself.

He’ll doodle for another five minutes and take a lunge over there. He has no idea what to draw, so he draws eyes.

He closes the book and picks up his bag. He crosses over and sits down next to her.

 

(Sometimes I write short fictional stories with no real ending)

Always be writing.

 

-REH

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