Despite my resentment for my mother’s usual incessant worrying, I found myself grinding my teeth a little bit, slightly gnawing and clenching and, unfortunately, worrying. I don’t think my heart had begun to palpitate to an extent beyond normal, but I do confess that my eyes, which had been content only moments before closed and quiet, now stared
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anyway, just playing a little devil's advocate there...and the post was actually an elaboration of the situation, the first in a set of short stories i wrote.
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turns out she was the owner. go figure.
(and hooray for cocaine in soft drinks!)
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at the same time, i do realize that the seats are designed that way for a reason. but still, isn't it ethically right not to compromise the comfort of others for personal pleasure on a relatively short flight?
wow. i'm opinionated.
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stupendous writing.
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