Then she faced him.
“And you need to keep your belongings within your own seating area. I won’t be asking again.”
He stared at her.
“So she gets away with it?”
“Both of you have been instructed to respect each other’s space.”
He looked down at the napkins.
Finally, he crumpled the papers.
“Ridiculous.”
He dropped into his seat.
I turned forward.
And then the man sitting beside him removed his headphones.
“Wait,” he said. “Those were your socks?”
Captain Compost frowned.
“Yes. Why?”
His seatmate looked at the socks.
Then at my headrest.
“I thought something was wrong with the air-conditioning.”
The teenager made a noise like a bicycle tire losing air.
Her mother covered her own mouth.
I stared at my tray table.
Captain Compost looked from one face to another.
“What?”
Nobody answered.
His seatmate quietly put his headphones back on.
The flight attendant returned a few minutes later.
