The captain announced our descent an hour before landing.
The cabin lights slowly brightened, and people stirred awake like nothing had happened. Like the woman three seats ahead hadn’t been fingered to orgasm while sipping champagne. Like she hadn’t been f****d in a restroom with her mouth full. Like she hadn’t been chained in a sleeping pod, filled and used while the crew passed warm towels and orange juice.
Like I hadn’t fallen apart mid air.
He still hadn’t looked at me.
Not once since crawling down from the crew rest.
I stared out the window as clouds thinned and the city skyline came into view below, glowing like gold beneath the horizon. My body was sore. My dress rumpled. My thighs sticky with a mess I hadn’t cleaned properly. I should have felt shame. Maybe disgust. But all I
