Sliding through the clouded sky, with a semiWIP

Currently lurking in the “lounge” of Gate C27 at DFW. Man do I live high. Still not feeling quite right, but so far I haven’t descended into outright illness either. At work this week I was issued the largest laptop I’ve ever seen in my live — some kind of Dell Inspiron with a 17″ cinema screen. It’s freakishly huge.

The air travel system never fails to amuse. Some jerk just had to shove past me and cut in front of me in the security line in Omaha. (He was heading for the same flight I was, it turned out, and we were 30 mins before boarding, so I don’t know what his rush was.) Of course, he managed to send his boarding pass through the x-ray machine buried in his hand luggage, so the TSA guy wouldn’t let him through the scanning portal. I got to stand behind Mr. Cut-in-Front for several minutes of argument and idiocy. I never did figure out why he thought he was so important if he was also so clueless about how the system works.

Woke up from dozing on the OMA-DFW flight to find my face being studied by the guy in the center seat next to me (I pretty much always sit in 21F on the MD-80s American Airline uses for secondary routes). I smiled at him and looked out the window, and he got real nervous. Weird body language after that. I have no idea what was really going on — I’m not that cute, if you know what I mean, especially when snoring through drooling lips while crammed up against a plastic bulkhead.

Just processed a rejection and a couple of submissions. Will be doing a little bit of crit on the flight, read some of Mainspring, and maybe write a new SF piece called “The Queen of Junktown’s Daughter”, which is tugging at my mental hem. Or would be, if I weren’t mentally naked. All I have is the first two lines:

“Once upon a spacetime, the Queen of Junktown had a daughter. Human is as human does, they say, but this girl was strange even by the lax standards of her people.”

Oh, and Junktown is an oneiropolis.

Silver bird go sky high soon with me in its belly, to be spit up on a distant shore like a bad clam on the boardwalk. See y’all on the other side.