I open my eyes, and it's dark. I am leaning forward, my head between the seat in front of my and the plastic between the airplane windows. While I am still bent forward, I feel for my backpack and am glad to find the strap still hooked around my right foot where I looped it when the masks dropped. I sit up, back creaking, one vertebrae at a time. My head hurts and I feel slightly sick. I touch the left side of my forehead and it's numb and swollen. I also realize that gravity isn't holding me in my seat, but rather it's pulling me forward. Blinking, I can tell the plane it at a steep forward angle, creaking, popping, crackling, hissing, chirruping.
Inspired by "Al", Carol Emshwiller, "Sort of a plane crash in an uncharted region of the park."
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