I can’t breathe. It’s so tight, enclosed, I’m wedged between two strangers with no chance of escape. What was I thinking? Flying? Why did I even consider this a possibility?

I took the pills my doctor prescribed. Why aren’t they working? They should be working by now. I should be calm and relaxed instead of contemplating death. Death that will result from a plummeting spiral miles down through the air, our plane just a small whiff of smoke in the spacious blue sky, until we crash in a forgotten field somewhere with a huge, firey explosion and… I have to get out of here.

No. There’s certainly no leaving now. Where’s my card? Maybe if I focus on that, the drugs will kick in. Thank goodness, found it.

“Happy Birthday Mom! I know you don’t like to fly, but I bought you these tickets so that you can come see the new life I’ve started. I met someone Mom, and I really want for you to meet her. You’ll like her. She’s special. I love you. Drew.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. I can do this.

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