Jet Lag

Steph checked her iPod earbuds. That’s weird, she thought. The music had stopped unexpectedly, replaced by a sort of white noise. A white noise she felt throughout her entire body. She took the buds out, perplexed, but the buzzing was still there.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” She tapped a flight attendant on the shoulder. “Are we going through any turbulence now?”

The attendant smiled, showing abnormally white teeth. “No, the pilot would have announced it,” she said in one of those adult-understanding-a-child-but-really-doesn’t-voices.

Steph gave her the same smile and nodded. “Thank you.” As the attendant turned her back, Steph rolled her eyes and went to her window. The tingling seemed to have only gotten stronger…


30,000 feet below, a stolen speedboat lay dormant in the Atlantic waters. I looked up at the crisp outline of the plane drifting slowly over me, my only connection with the outside world seeming to be going with it. As it passed, there was a strange tingling in me.

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