Rose

After what feels like having spent half a lifetime on the plane, we are finally about to land. The flight attendant from earlier is collecting trash and looking so that every overhead bin is closed. When her eyes meet the ones belonging to Victor, I notice a rosy color spreads over her cheeks.

“Ah, Mr. Giovanni,” she says. “I hope your time onboard has been pleasant. Are you headed to your summer house?”

Wait. Summer house? What summer house? I had no idea Victor owned one of ...