The gentle hum of the jet engines, against the clutter and chatter in the kitchen, two rows behind me, took a little getting used to. Gladys, a mature stewardess with a condescending glare, interrupted me for the third time in the last hour. I pretended to ignore her by refusing to remove my headphones, taunting the veins in her neck to increase. When I thought she had suffered enough, I looked up and nodded. She grabbed my half-eaten bagel and shuttled off. Back in the day, they looked like beauty queens and smiled a lot. Now, they let anybody push that cart.
Shattered Rules
Joe sat at the Chippendale antique dining table given to them by his parents as a wedding gift. Scattered on the soiled table cloth was a collection of letters, some...