She grimaced.
“I hate Halloween.”
“Ugh. I hate Halloween. Those disgusting decorations, creepy dolls, horrible masks. I can’t even watch horror movies without having nightmares.”
“My grandson loves all that stuff.”
“I don’t understand why people enjoy frightening each other. It’s sick.”
I pictured my grandson hearing that. He’d probably start planning a dozen pranks before she finished speaking.
Not yet.
But I simply smiled and returned to my magazine.
I had no intention of frightening anyone.
At least, not yet.
About twenty minutes into the flight, I took a snack bar from my purse. I needed to keep my blood sugar stable, and my doctor had specifically advised me not to skip snacks.
“I need it,” I replied.
My neighbor immediately noticed.
“You’re eating that?”
“Of course. Have you ever thought that maybe you should eat less? You’re already taking up part of my seat!”
I stared at her.
