Tuesday, Tuesday, Tuesday ... another Tuesday in Tuesdayville ...
Mesmerings ...
I wake to find myself on a mostly empty plane. The air hostesses are pushing their carts up and down the aisles, stopping at every row of seats regardless of occupancy. I am seated next to a man whose face I cannot see beneath the brim of his hat. There's a smiling couple seated together adjacent to me in the centre aisle ... and a single, worried looking female gazing put of the window in the far aisle.
I look to my left and am startled to see a seat strapped to the wing. A lone female is tied into it. I know I need to talk to her and try desperately to get her attention. I then become aware of a man smoking at the front of the plane. He's sweating and fidgety.
The man next to me turns slightly and says "Tell me about the time." I'm puzzled. "The time?" I reply. "Yes, the time." I don't understand. I tilt my head and with a half laugh say "The Radio Times?" He shakes his head, "No ... the time." I think hard, my eyes darting. "The Times? The newspaper?" He lowers his head slightly. "No ... the time ... tell me about the time."
I'm distracted by the air hostess offering drinks to the centre aisle couple. I'm startled to realise the man with the hat is pulling down the blind so I can't see the girl on the wing. I try to stop him, but find myself unable to do so. I realise that all the blinds on the plane are now down.
The smoking man approaches. "Here, hold this!" He hands me his half smoked cigarette and disappears to the back of the plane. I hold it upright to try to slow it's burning. The ash slowly forms. We hit a patch of turbulence and I struggle to stay seated. The ash is tumbling, flake by flake by flake.
The man grips the wrist of my hand. The cigarette has almost burnt down. "Tell me about the time!" he screams at me ...
