“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re crushing the chair.”
“I don’t trust wheels I can’t control.”
“You haven’t controlled wheels since you backed into Mrs. Fowler’s mailbox.”
“That mailbox came out of nowhere.”
Also Normal
We boarded early. Mom took the window seat. I sat beside her, an older woman on the aisle. Across from us, a man in a gray blazer gave us one quick look before opening a magazine.
During takeoff, Mom grabbed my hand.
“That sound is normal,” I said.
“That one?”
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