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The fatigue had been gnawing at my bones for days. This plane represented my promise of peace, my island of silence torn from the tumult. I needed these few hours suspended between two worlds where my mind could finally relax. A movie, the anonymity of clouds, the regular humming of engines as a lullaby.
My seat seemed perfect. A window to infinity. A tray table ready to hold my screen. Until she settled in front of me.
She first took possession of her seat with the confidence of someone who considers space their natural property. Then, with a calculated yet nonchalant movement, she flipped her hair over the backrest. A cascade of brown locks invaded my tray table, completely blocking my screen.
I hesitated. Breathed. Then gently tapped her shoulder.
“Excuse me, your hair is blocking my screen.”
She turned around, vaguely surprised, as if the space behind her didn’t really exist.
“Oh, sorry,” she murmured with a distracted smile before bringing her hair back in front of her.
Silence as My Only Defense
Ten minutes later, the same dark cascade spilled over my tray table again. This time, when I touched her shoulder, she didn’t react. My finger insisted, my voice slightly raised. Nothing. Perfectly mastered ignorance.
I looked out the window, observing clouds that seemed immutable. Irritation slowly rose in me like a tide. I contained it, locked it in a watertight box. Conflict attracts attention, and in this confined space, I wanted to remain invisible.
I stared at those invading hairs. Their shiny texture, their weight on my space. The violated boundary between her world and mine. An idea formed slowly, absurd at first, then increasingly tempting.
My bag contained three mint chewing gums. I took them out methodically, unwrapped them carefully. Their artificial scent invaded my small territory as I began to chew them, one after another. Without haste. Without apparent anger. Just the patience of a watchmaker facing a delicate mechanism.
The Junction of Separate Worlds
The first wad of gum lodged perfectly between three locks. The second created a sticky constellation near the roots. The third formed an impossible knot toward the ends.
Time flowed differently now. The wait had a sweet taste of silent revenge. The clouds passed by, indifferent to our little high-altitude drama.
Fifteen minutes later, as if a sixth sense had alerted her, she reached for her hair. Her fingers met the viscous resistance. Her body instantly stiffened.
She turned around, eyes widened with disbelief.
“What is… this?” she stammered, her fingers frantically trying to free her trapped locks.
Without taking my eyes off my screen, I calmly replied:
“It’s the face of disrespect.”
“You’re completely insane!” she hissed.
The Fragile Light of Understanding
“And you,” I continued, watching my movie as if we were discussing the weather, “are rude. Here are your options: endure this flight and cut your hair later, or I can help you now. I have small scissors in my bag. Manicure scissors. Would you like my assistance?”
Her face lost all color. The reality of our situation finally seemed to reach her, as if until now she had been navigating a parallel world where her actions had no consequences.
I leaned toward her, my voice barely audible above the purring of the engines:
“If you put your hair back here, you’ll land with half your head shaved. I have a steady hand, even in turbulence.”
The silence between us became tangible. Without a word, she gathered her hair, twisted it into a tight bun that she held as if her life depended on it. Her body remained frozen for the rest of the flight, her tense shoulders betraying her acute awareness of my existence behind her.
The screen in front of me lit up. I pressed play. The movie began to scroll in a perfectly clear frame.
In the Space Between Beings
Slight turbulence shook the plane. Her bun didn’t move a millimeter. I noticed the redness rising along her neck, the way she carefully avoided any movement that might bring our attention back to each other.
Strangely, victory had a bitter taste. The space between our seats had transformed into a silent battlefield, and we were both losers and winners at the same time.
My movie played on, but my thoughts wandered elsewhere. To that invisible boundary between beings that we sometimes cross without thinking, and the strange lessons we inflict on each other when words are no longer enough.
In this metal tube suspended between sky and earth, we were nothing more than two solitudes that had briefly and awkwardly intertwined their territories.