The flight attendant is plump and comfortable like a babysitter, or a sausage, and she tottles down the aisle to make an announcement. The turbulence on the small aircraft gives Biba a bellyache. She wants an Ambien and a kiss.
Over the speakers, the flight attendant whispers, “We are lost.” Various facial expressions pass through the plane. The flight attendant goes on to say that the pilot has “never seen this place before,” how, according to the navigation system, we are passing over “somewhere that should no longer be there.”
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