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The Amazing Flying Hostess


by Peter Cherches


The amazing flying hostess, with padded shoulders and golden rings on every finger, seemed to be wearing virtual blinders, a blank stare, as she ignored my entreaties. Continuing my dogged pursuit of the airborne beauty, I started to wave histrionically, but her lack of attention made me feel like a damned knucklehead. I took one more look at the blurry goddess in high-speed flight, then I tied my lone sneaker, began to zip my fly, and decided to cease watching the flying woman, though by this point she was already out of sight anyway, somewhere in the wild blue yonder, wherever the hell that is.

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