Six Sentence Sunday
Drue continued to ask for the annoyance factor, but Dakota really did look terrible post-flight, kinda like a cross between someone waiting for a heart transplant and a crash-test dummy on the wrong side of an accident. “Maybe you should have skipped the last four rum and sodas and saved your liver the aggravation.”
“It wasn’t that much! I’m a nervous flier and a dram or two helps to sooth my tension.”
“I could tell by the white-knuckled grip-of-death you had on the armrest. Real Zen-like.”
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