Like a marathon runner at the end of the line, the stewardess exits the runway. With a grin so bright, longing and searching eyes, and her phone to her ear, she rounds the corner and goes as fast as her shaky skirt bearing legs will go. I wonder where she is going. Who is on the phone? Has she just finished her flight rotation and is now going home? Is she racing to her next flight but stopping to see a friend along the way? Is she racing to the arms of her lover who awaits her with a warm hug and passionate kiss? I hope it’s the last one.
Glimpses are short pieces that come to my mind after a split second of inspiration.