Window

She dreamt that, before impact, one of the littles had looked out to see an angel flying alongside the plane and waving at the window; it had squealed with delight, pointing excitedly, trying to get everyone's attention. She woke up crying and dressed slowly (having set out her clothes the night before). It was a slow plod through getting ready (shower, make yourself eat an entire piece of toast, don't throw up) and making the first call (get the cab, apply waterproof mascara, practice your game face, don't throw up). Shoulders back and down; breathe. Do your job. She would make the final announcement at the press conference and, behind her, all of the names would scroll onscreen. The cab turned a corner, her destination only moments away, and the sun broke through (nearly blinding her through the window). Just in case ... just in case ... she raised her hand and waved at the angel that might be out there looking in.