Comfortably, Fiona is sitting in her window seat.
She is slightly annoyed because absolutely NO ONE here at the airport seems to be competent, but well, that is nothing new of course.
She rolls her eyes, looking out of the window, observing a man in an orange vest who seems to be screaming something to someone doing weird sign language.
All primitive retards, ahh. hmm. Stewardesses are hectically running up and down the corridor, throwing luggage in the upper cabins, and telling people to put their seats straight and the tables up.
Fiona tries to not get impacted by those "negative vibes", and listens to some "drizzly nature sounds" on her little mp3 player.
A bit later, the machine is ready to take off and the engines start. She leans back, closes her eyes for a bit. The plane gains speed and the engine sounds swell, and then with a little lift in her stomach, they lose ground. Sun in her face, nice, warm, tinkly feeling -even though she can't stand the material of the airplane seats- it is enjoyable - until someone starts bumping on her arm which was lying relaxed on the armrest, again and again and AGAIN.
She turns her head to the side. A little, fat kettle is on the edge of popping out his far too tight seat and flying through the entire plane corridor, showing a devastated face expression and in his despair holding on to the armrests. Fiona rolls her eyes.
There is ALWAYS something. "God, put the seatbelt on, how stupid can you be"
"It is - not - not - possible -" the kettle presses out, all red in his face out of effort to keep himself inside the seat.
Fiona rolls her eyes "seriously, how fat can you be, wait" she reaches around the kettle, grabs the seatbelt, loosens it to the maximum and manages to fix it around his waist.
He gasps, totally out of breath, "Thank you - thank you- really- I could not have held myself like that for the entire flight, puuh, you must be sent by god, thank you" Fiona rolls her eyes, "God, really. Ever thought of not flying or maybe booking two seats?? It is irresponsible." The kettle looks absolutely miserable "yes, yes- you are right... I'm very sorry..." "whatever" Fiona rolls her eyes and looks out of the window again, the poor kettle still looking miserable.