Trouble - E. D. James

As soon as the plane picked up speed on the runway and Olivia felt her body being pressed back into seat she fell into a deep sleep. She woke with her mouth hanging open and a thin string of drool running down to her shoulder. She discretely reached up and wiped her hand across the back of her mouth and gently twisted her neck back into a vertical position.

“That’s the trouble with sleeping on airplanes,” the dark haired man sitting on the aisle said smiling.

Olivia tried to smile back but actually felt angry that the man had the nerve to comment that he had noticed. If there was one thing Olivia respected, it was privacy in the midst of strangers. She turned and looked out at the ocean below. They were flying into darkness from the near eternal sun of summer Alaska. She felt herself growing tired and welcoming the night. She’d been coming to Homer for the past two summers and still hadn’t gotten over the disorienting light that peaked on the summer soltice. The first week or two she was filled with a restless energy during what should have been the nighttime and then found herself sleepwalking through her days. She wanted to the surrender to the weariness in her bones and the ache in her heart and escape again into the oblivion of sleep. She wondered how she could screen herself from mister-notice-everything at the end of the isle. She poked her head up and saw that a window seat in the last row of the airplane was open. She gave a chilly smile as she moved into the isle and escaped to the far corner. Her bundled sweater served as pillow and she drifted off quickly, putting what lay ahead out of her mind.