Toy Airplanes and Other Nightmares
You fly home from the World Horror Convention on a toy plane.
The plane is seventeen rows front to back and three seats across, one on the left and two on the right facing the cockpit. It’s like a subway car with wings, except without the graffiti and not as many stops.
At least that’s what you hope.
Walking down the aisle, you feel like you’re in a one-quarter scale model of a real plane. Either that or you’ve stumbled into Lilliput.
The luggage compartments are only on one side of the plane and in order to get your single carry on suitcase to fit, you need a jar of Vaseline and a therapist.
Your seat is 11C, window seat in the Emergency Exit row. The escape hatch looks big enough to accommodate someone the size of an Oompa Loompa.
The guy sitting across the aisle in 11A is the size of Martha Stewart’s ego. You don’t know how he even managed to fit on board but if the plane crashes, there’s no way he’s getting through the emergency exit door. So you hope you get out first.
