People do weird things in airports, like falling asleep fetal position next to a giant wall painted with David Copperfield's face. Or ordering a Stella Artois at the bar and staring at it for twenty minutes, only to take two sips and leave immediately after. They do things that make me sad and uncomfortable, like arguing and calling each other names — yes, you, old couple across from me, or drunkenly stumbling over to the flight attendant and demanding a seat upgrade. Sigh. There needs to be more love in the world.
I am sad. This couple is sad. I wonder if they are happy, and maybe just having an off night. She has a rose peeking out of her carry-on bag. Who gave you the rose, sad woman? Was it the man next to you? Was it someone else?
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