Adult Short Story
The anguish from Wyatt’s dream crawled under his skin even after he woke. He rubbed his clammy palms together, yet the sensation of the icy doorknob in his dream lingered. His shirt clung to his sweaty back despite the chilly temperature of the airplane cabin. Clearing his throat, he looked around, noticing most of the passengers had already gotten off the plane. He snatched up his book and jumped to his feet, bumping his head on the overhead bin. Stunned, he sat back down for a second, then stood carefully and reached to take down his carry-on suitcase.
“Welcome to Chicago,” the stewardess said with a smile as he approached. “Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you very much, ma’am. Glad to be back on the ground. Don’t care for flying much.” Wyatt walked past her and down the gray tunnel leading to Chicago O’Hare International Airport. He’d never been to a big city before. Never traveled out of Wexler, Kansas for that matter. He doled out a dozen pardon me’s and at least a half-dozen sorry ‘bout stepping on your foot’s as he struggled to get through the bustling crowd to the exit.
He caught his reflection in the window beside the exit doors and stopped. An abundance of product froze his hair in time, still parted where the teeth of the comb raked through it. He sported a white shirt buttoned to the top; a bolo tie pulled too tight. His brown suit was obviously new, but by no means stylish.