My blue eyes locked on my smartphone. I reread my boarding pass. I have never sat in seat 45B, premium economy, before.
My mouth drops, and my eyebrows raise. I catch the woman beside me, with green eyes and dimpled cheeks, scanning the in-flight entertainment system.
She is seated next to me, and the in-flight entertainment system is attached to the seat in front of her. "Z-grade viewing," she mutters.
I rake up frequent flier points. A woman who takes my breath away isn't one of my usual travel companions. Crying babies and people elbowing my rib cage are my constant travellers. An escaping breath sinks my tummy.
A cup of black coffee in – hand. I turn to the lady. "Nothing worth watching."
"Typical." I am Annie. Nice to meet you."
I am lost in her eyes and shoulder-length red hair. The universe stands still, and I stutter, "Francis."
My eyes awaken, and I rub my sore neck. Sleeping on the rough blue departures area carpet doesn't get any better, no matter if all the nearby hotels are booked out. A global IT fault wiped out the airline's booking and check-in systems. Of course, this happened during the school holidays, leaving no hope for booking alternative accommodations.
I lift my head from my backpack, aka pillow.
"Flight re-bookings are now available from the customer service desk," blasts over the PA system. First in, first served, I slept by that desk. Now, to get ahead of the hours-long lines.
I strap on my backpack and briefly consider ignoring last night's dream. Yeah, Nah. I have never had such a vision before, and my restless sleep is the only thing in common with those dreams. Nor do I ever recall more vivid dreams with such clarity.
The booking agent's baby face motions me to approach the desk. I explained my original travel itinerary and enquired about my options.
"Sir, you are in luck. You can use your frequent flier points for the next available flight and get a free upgrade to business class, or there is a seat 45B premium economy." He points to the PC screen onboard seating plan.
Take 45B, an inner and previously unheard voice beckons. Why am I placing my trust in this unreal guidance?
"I will take the premium economy seat. "I can't escape the ticketing agent raising an eyebrow.
Boarding my flight a few hours later, I stand beside a short woman who wears jeans well. Her sparkling eyes are familiar. Wait, it can't be Annie, surely? Yet I know her somehow. I open the overhead locker, instinctively grab her overnight bag and shove it next to my backpack.
I strap myself into the window seat next to Annie. I pretend the Air New Zealand safety video has my attention. After the credits roll and routine pre-flight announcements, I scroll through the list of in-flight movies.
"Hi, can you recommend some decent viewing?" I utter.
"No. All those shows are rubbish. I am Annie, by the way. "
My mouth drops, and my eyebrows raise. I catch the woman beside me, with green eyes and dimpled cheeks, scanning the in-flight entertainment system.
She is seated next to me, and the in-flight entertainment system is attached to the seat in front of her. "Z-grade viewing," she mutters.
I rake up frequent flier points. A woman who takes my breath away isn't one of my usual travel companions. Crying babies and people elbowing my rib cage are my constant travellers. An escaping breath sinks my tummy.
A cup of black coffee in – hand. I turn to the lady. "Nothing worth watching."
"Typical." I am Annie. Nice to meet you."
I am lost in her eyes and shoulder-length red hair. The universe stands still, and I stutter, "Francis."
My eyes awaken, and I rub my sore neck. Sleeping on the rough blue departures area carpet doesn't get any better, no matter if all the nearby hotels are booked out. A global IT fault wiped out the airline's booking and check-in systems. Of course, this happened during the school holidays, leaving no hope for booking alternative accommodations.
I lift my head from my backpack, aka pillow.
"Flight re-bookings are now available from the customer service desk," blasts over the PA system. First in, first served, I slept by that desk. Now, to get ahead of the hours-long lines.
I strap on my backpack and briefly consider ignoring last night's dream. Yeah, Nah. I have never had such a vision before, and my restless sleep is the only thing in common with those dreams. Nor do I ever recall more vivid dreams with such clarity.
The booking agent's baby face motions me to approach the desk. I explained my original travel itinerary and enquired about my options.
"Sir, you are in luck. You can use your frequent flier points for the next available flight and get a free upgrade to business class, or there is a seat 45B premium economy." He points to the PC screen onboard seating plan.
Take 45B, an inner and previously unheard voice beckons. Why am I placing my trust in this unreal guidance?
"I will take the premium economy seat. "I can't escape the ticketing agent raising an eyebrow.
Boarding my flight a few hours later, I stand beside a short woman who wears jeans well. Her sparkling eyes are familiar. Wait, it can't be Annie, surely? Yet I know her somehow. I open the overhead locker, instinctively grab her overnight bag and shove it next to my backpack.
I strap myself into the window seat next to Annie. I pretend the Air New Zealand safety video has my attention. After the credits roll and routine pre-flight announcements, I scroll through the list of in-flight movies.
"Hi, can you recommend some decent viewing?" I utter.
"No. All those shows are rubbish. I am Annie, by the way. "
