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1A
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By Jordan Morris.
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Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes:
Thank you for downloading ‘1A.’ This eBook remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoy this story, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by Jordan Morris. Thank you for your support.
Copyright 2011 Jordan Morris.
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Dedicated to everyone who has ever tried to fly.
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“1A.” The airline giantess read Pandora Peterson’s ticket. “First window seat on your right.”
“Hope there’s a map, in case I get lost,” Pandora joked. And then decided that a map may have been more useful than she’d thought. The first window seat on her right was filled. In her place was the sort of guy whose film credit Pandora expected would read along the lines of ‘Man In Cheap White Suit’. Or hopefully not even a speaking role.
“Hi,” said Man In Cheap White Suit, in a resonant, showman’s voice. No such luck. Unfortunately the extras in Pandora’s sixteen years of life were often under the mistaken impression that they were supposed to say something other than ‘rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb.’
“I’m Nick Vicars,” the hefty man went on in the tones of a game-show host. “I like to fly close to the sun. That’s all right with you.”
Pandora assumed she just missed the ‘if’ in ‘if that’s all right with you?’ Although he did say it more like a statement than a question. She considered protesting – it was a short domestic flight to Sydney – just how close to the sun did Nick Vicars think he was going to get? Still, she’d have to sit beside him one way or another - maybe it was best not to cultivate unnecessary friction from the start. The plane only had four seats to a row anyway, so although 1B wasn’t by the window, at least it was beside the aisle and not one of those claustrophobic middle seats she’d been stuck in before on bigger airlines. Plus, it wasn’t like any of these seats were quantifiably better than others. It was an egalitarian domestic flight – everyone was in economy. Or... hell, she was on holidays and feeling optimistic - everyone was in first class.
“Sure. Why not?” Pandora hoisted her camera into the overhead locker. Her tank top rose with her arms, and she thought she caught Nick Vicars eyeing her exposed abdomen. She gave him the benefit of the doubt, but still pulled her top back down before taking her seat.
“You want me to autograph that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Pandora hoped he wasn’t referring to her belly, but was struggling to identify anything else he could be talking about. She narrowed her eyes. “Why? Are you a celebrity?” Perhaps she’d have to upgrade him from ‘Man In Cheap White Suit’ to something further up the bill.
“Nick Vicars,” he reiterated. “You know. Supernova 108FM. The Hot Eleven At Eleven.”
“Oh. I don’t listen to that station.” Pandora fastened her seat belt. The guy did have a voice for radio, though. And the face for it too. “So is that eleven in the morning or eleven at night? Because I’m usually either at school or asleep.”