The Napkin Project (Summer Vacation Edition): Sloane Crosley

a glass of pink liquid and a note on a table
The Napkin Project: Sloane CrosleyPhilip Friedman


Not one member of the family had slept when they were supposed to sleep. Her husband had stayed up the night before the flight, watching a show that glowed differently with each piece of dialogue, which meant it was either reality TV or the news, some story that had to be shown, not told. Her toddler was now vacillating between delight at each airplane spotted from inside the terminal window and hysterics upon realizing no one was willing to muster equal pause or enthusiasm. The cat, she just realized, had vomited around 2 am.

She headed for the closest bathroom. As she washed her hands, sticky with an unknown substance, she eavesdropped on two French women. They were gliding about, wearing white linen. She trailed them to their gate which was also hers, and felt herself transformed for a whole hour.

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