The Sullen Young Man Is Late for the Plane,
Jude Brigley
but he is not sorry. The plane is for him. We are all here for him. Although the chief attendant tells him his second bag will have to go in the hold, he insists on opening all the shut overheads searching for space. When he puts down the heavy black trunk and starts pushing other cases together to tease out more room, she grabs it and hurries to the door, which is just about to close. Why are you doing that? he shouts after her and then quietly under his breath bitch. We all hear it. She is just taking up more time, he announces to no one in particular. Everyone is looking away. I realize that a withering glance is rendered useless when wearing a mask. He throws himself into his seat and, if disdain can be expressed by a lean body, that is his message. He grabs the arm of a flight attendant, Get me some water quick, would you? She brings him a liter bottle–maybe she knows him, maybe she has spotted trouble and wants to divert it. He scrolls through his phone, glancing up as the first attendant asks us to switch them off. A contemptuous curl of his thin lips. He goes on scrolling until the plane rises in the sky, convincing himself this is his choice now.
Jude Brigley
but he is not sorry. The plane is for him. We are all here for him. Although the chief attendant tells him his second bag will have to go in the hold, he insists on opening all the shut overheads searching for space. When he puts down the heavy black trunk and starts pushing other cases together to tease out more room, she grabs it and hurries to the door, which is just about to close. Why are you doing that? he shouts after her and then quietly under his breath bitch. We all hear it. She is just taking up more time, he announces to no one in particular. Everyone is looking away. I realize that a withering glance is rendered useless when wearing a mask. He throws himself into his seat and, if disdain can be expressed by a lean body, that is his message. He grabs the arm of a flight attendant, Get me some water quick, would you? She brings him a liter bottle–maybe she knows him, maybe she has spotted trouble and wants to divert it. He scrolls through his phone, glancing up as the first attendant asks us to switch them off. A contemptuous curl of his thin lips. He goes on scrolling until the plane rises in the sky, convincing himself this is his choice now.