Have planes gotten smaller or have gotten bigger? Day 7, Talent Pond (Form: Quatrains) |
Tourist Class ** Image ID #1973363 Unavailable ** I’m not sure when planes changed for worse and riding them became a curse. Had I a choice, I’d probably pass given I am small space averse. I’m sitting back in “cattle class,” there’s hardly room for my small ass, when the stewardess comes stumbling by with Coke, some ice, and a small glass. “Beverages?” I heard her cry. No chance of sleeping, so I sigh and find I haven’t room to wave. I shake my head to draw her nigh. I’m shackled like a lowly slave (absent the oars) yet I feel brave and ask “Can I please have a Coke?” My voice sounds like I’m in a cave. On either side are Sumo folk whose fleshiness lies like a yoke and holds me fast within my seat less something happen and I croak! She stares at me and I repeat my question with a bit more heat. She pours a bit. “A dollar please.” I stare at her like she’s a cheat. “A buck? For that? Surely you tease!” Her look makes even the ice freeze. Stuck in a vice, I cannot reach my money without great unease. By my own words, I must impeach my dignity. I just can’t reach so I decline. Such looks from each! I hope when we off load, it isn’t breech! An entry for Day 7, "Invalid Item" Prompt: Image Form: Quatrain ~ A Quatrain is a poem consisting of four lines of verse with a specific rhyming scheme but no set meter. I chose a variation called a chain rhyme which is aaba, bbcb, ccdc, dddd. |