Leaving On A Jet PlaneMature

Melissa Rivers is tired of the monotony. Every day, her life trudges on with cadenced staccato, a dreadful metronome keeping pace of a toneless existence.

Following a friends advice, she booked a ticket to an exotic resort in a remote region of South America.

She was determined to get the adventure and excitement she'd felt was missing from her life; before it was too late.

It almost seemed as though the clock was going backwards. Every time Melissa looked up, she felt as though the needle hadn't moved at all. She rubbed her eyes and tried, once again, to focus on the screen.

Tinsels danced and shimmered in her periphery. They were anchored to the cage of a noisy fan that was trying, without much avail, to cool the smoldering office.

"Mel." came a voice from the door, accompanied by a soft knocking on the steel frame.

"How's it going?" She replied, feigning a smile through the heat. 

"You can go home early. I know you've been looking forward to this weekend for a while now."

She smiled, for real this time. "Thank you so much Jarred. I don't think I can stand another ten minutes in this oven." 

"Hopefully by the time you get back, the air conditioning will be repaired." 

She nodded while packing her briefcase. "Hopefully!" 

"Anyway, enjoy your vacation. I'll see you in a few weeks." 

She waved at him as he disappeared beyond the frame of the door. "Bye." Her heart was pounding a million miles an hour. The catatonic state that had gripped her moments ago seemed to have vanished in the anticipation of adventure. With her documents saved and the fan turned off, she left her office, happy knowing that she wouldn't be seeing it for some time. 

In the hallway, the lobby clerk waved at her excitedly while speaking to someone on the telephone; going as far as to cup her hand over the receiver and mouth  the words "Have fun," before returning to business.

Waiting for the train was a nauseating experience. The platform was a sea of bodies and a veritable sauna. Inevitably though, she arrived at her apartment, unlocking the door with childlike glee. Her suitcases had been packed earlier in the week and so all that was necessary was to change into more suitable clothes.

After a quick shower, Melissa clutched a suitcase in each hand and clumsily fumbled with her keys to lock the door behind her. 

Forty five minutes of cab ride later, she was at the airport; processing her baggage through security.

Flight was an unnatural thing to Melissa. Too many late nights watching Discovery channel's Mayday had put a bad taste in her mouth when it came to leaving solid ground. Her solution; a sleeping pill washed down by a shot of cheap airline scotch. With the concoction down the hatch, she settled in for sleep, as much as one can settle into such a rigid chair. Luckily, sleep took her before they even began to taxi the runway. 

The End

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