Madam Maxime :: Short Story

You don’t always go where you think you’re going.

“Welcome to flight 39221. My name is Elsebeth and I’ll be your hostess for today. I am here to make this experience as pleasant as possible. Would you like a drink, sir?”

Harold looked to his right, to what was supposed to be a window, but there was nothing to see. Just a vast blackness that extended until forever. At least, that’s what it looked like. It wouldn’t go on forever, obviously.

“When will we be arriving?” He turned to the lady wearing a purple dress that fitted her tight like a second skin, carefully covering her five tentacles.

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