He can’t sleep on planes. Perhaps you can sleep in Business Class, he never traveled in Business Class, it’s only two rows away, you can practically hear them snoring through the curtain. It’s not the size of the seat, he’s economy size himself, and he’s okay sitting upright. He was a horse in his previous life, sometimes he falls asleep standing. No, it’s the angst of people being caught in the 99 percent bracket. Or it’s the vibes of the girl in the seat across the aisle who is plowing patiently through Ann Coulter’s latest book under the guidance of blinding overhead reading lights. The elderly lady between him and the aisle isn’t sleeping either. But she pretends. Like everybody else. There is so much behavior going on. He has set his Iphone alarm nonetheless.
His Iphone vibrates. He enjoys the simmering gizmo touch on his skin longer than strictly necessary. He will have to unsleep lady next to him, who has yet to recover from a visit to her bipolar hairdresser. He will have to get up, open the overhead bin (things could fall out), get hold of his bag, get hold of the ray balls, close the overhead bin (things could fall out), and make it to the lavatory. Wig and makeup can wait until they’ve arrived in Madrid. He will try to get out without provoking her reaction. He will step over her legs without touching her in any which way whatsoever, and she will keep up appearances in any which way whatsoever, since she is person with a round, funny face. So he gets up, climbs across her legs, inadvertently touching her knees of course, or other parts of her round body, but she understands, or pretends.
Inside the lavatory, he sits down and pees, although that wasn’t the purpose of his visit. Why taking care of the locators now? It’s supposed to confuse Obama, should he be reckless enough. Taking out the entire plane, it would possibly increase his ratings; politicians are reckless. He unbinds the Omega watch, and positions one GPS marble next to the lavabo. He opens one with his nifty hook. The watch just fits, thanks to its pliable leather belt. He snaps the ball shut. The GPS signal is trapped inside the sphere now, supposedly unable to penetrate the iron clams. Now the other one. That’s easy, the metallic marble disappears easily inside the second ball. No more signals from Dr. John Yoo. Lost without a trace above the ocean blue. Chang returns to his seat, de-seats in reverse, the lady still pretending. “Feels good, doesn’t it,” she says to Chang.
-“Huh,” Chang says.
-“Peeing.”
Stay tuned for the next installment on Friday, or read the entire story published so far here.
His Iphone vibrates. He enjoys the simmering gizmo touch on his skin longer than strictly necessary. He will have to unsleep lady next to him, who has yet to recover from a visit to her bipolar hairdresser. He will have to get up, open the overhead bin (things could fall out), get hold of his bag, get hold of the ray balls, close the overhead bin (things could fall out), and make it to the lavatory. Wig and makeup can wait until they’ve arrived in Madrid. He will try to get out without provoking her reaction. He will step over her legs without touching her in any which way whatsoever, and she will keep up appearances in any which way whatsoever, since she is person with a round, funny face. So he gets up, climbs across her legs, inadvertently touching her knees of course, or other parts of her round body, but she understands, or pretends.
Inside the lavatory, he sits down and pees, although that wasn’t the purpose of his visit. Why taking care of the locators now? It’s supposed to confuse Obama, should he be reckless enough. Taking out the entire plane, it would possibly increase his ratings; politicians are reckless. He unbinds the Omega watch, and positions one GPS marble next to the lavabo. He opens one with his nifty hook. The watch just fits, thanks to its pliable leather belt. He snaps the ball shut. The GPS signal is trapped inside the sphere now, supposedly unable to penetrate the iron clams. Now the other one. That’s easy, the metallic marble disappears easily inside the second ball. No more signals from Dr. John Yoo. Lost without a trace above the ocean blue. Chang returns to his seat, de-seats in reverse, the lady still pretending. “Feels good, doesn’t it,” she says to Chang.
-“Huh,” Chang says.
-“Peeing.”
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