She was beautiful, and she could never be his. How can a woman so calm amongst clouds belong to anyone? The person desiring her had to fly. He couldn’t fly, though he wished he could. He wanted to fly just so he could give her a flower, and stay with her far from ground – far from reality.
Sometimes, attendants can be really annoying. Like hpw they always smile at you and ask ‘Hiii how may I help you?” When all you want is to sit on the couch of ur hotel room and drink some coffee. WHy must they always put on that fake smile on their faces? It’s disturbing and annoying at the same time!
“Attendant! Attendant!” I called, until my lungs were inflamed. No matter how much I increased the volume of my voice or how long the intervals were when I stopped calling out, no one would answer. Suddenly I realized that everything around me had vanished.
They were always sitting around. I felt myself grow disgusted from the site of all the women cackling in the lobby, lifting their legs like I couldn’t see up their skirts and then shooting me odd looks. What was it about? And why were there so many flight attendants gathered around the lobby everyday. Shouldn’t they be flying somewhere?
as she walked down the aisle. upon the floor flowers everywhere and in the air lil’ beams of light, lil orbs hanging.
in the air the whisp smell of flowers.
a garden, a fairytale.
this was her dream wedding.
as she walked down that aisle.
The flight attendant winded around the corner of the aisle and strode towards the cockpit. She smiled to the co-pilot as he exited the area and gave her a nod and a tip of his hat. It was close, she thought. When he had gone, she checked the bomb from behind the curtain.
The attendant at the meeting looked at me and smiled. His eyes were a deep blue, set in the middle with a lighter blue on the edges. God I could get lost in those eyes. He cleared his throat and began his speech on…well…I don’t actually remember since I was too busy staring. When it was over I smiled and applauded like the others.
We stepped through another marble archway and into the common room. There were myriad people about the place, gathered in small groups and talking casually to one another in accents I’d never heard before. No sooner than we had arrived did an attendant shuffle forth from behind a folding screen in the corner and herd us as if shooing dogs to a side room beneath an uncomfortably large tapestry of Jules McMercury, the late heir to the Idea Corporation, and a man I once deeply despised.
There are some things that you can never imagine about some people. Sure, she was pretty awkward and discordant before, but sitting there as an attendant to her storytelling, I couldn’t help but feel some remorse for how I viewed her.
The attendant walked towards me. I was nervous. What could she possibly want? I had all my papers in order. There was nothing left to say. But the thought of an interrogation, of being brought into a small room, with no air and no windows, it was already suffocating. I pulled my papers together, out of my bag and readied for the stream of questions I was sure she would shoot at me. Even if I had everything in order, I was still scared, as always, about most things. Perhaps I just had a guilty face, that is, my guilt just swept though me, over me and appeared on my person, even if there was nothing to fell guilty about.
I was walking in the airport and saw a flight attendant pass me by. She was pretty, and I realized that I wanted to be a flight attendant too. She was an attendant for American airlines, which is the worst airlines in the world. I would rather be an attendant to Air Japan.
The attendant walked up to their table and handed them the wrapped bag. A quick nod of his cap and the attendant scurried off. They both looked at the bag with odd, inquisitive looks. It was small, and such an odd shape.
the flight attendant pushed her cart down the aisle as i gazed out the window at the clouds accumulating into a storm. yet again i was being sent off into the unknown and i liked it more than anything
the attendant at a wedding,,,what is that really? What do they attend to? Do they attend the wedding? Well, then, aren’t we all just attendants? Aren’t we all attendants where ever we go? Maybe a flight attendant,,,,but aren’t we all attending the flight?????
I heard a really disturbing story about a flight attendant and a pilot going insane and freaking out about how the plane is going to be taken over and crashed. Is Jet Blue pumping their cockpits full of crazy drugs or something? It makes me nervous that the people in charge of my safety 30,000 feet in the air are going to spaz and wind up driving me into the ground. Just saying.
Can I attend to you needs when you don’t attend to mine? Friends are mutual attendants in each other’s lives. But sometimes, we see the compassion of others, being an attendant to us…and its confusing, but isn’t the world better that way when we attend others without some kind of return?
Haha oh, to be attended to. I don’t think any of us ever feels like we are well-attended. An attendant might be on an airplane, in which case I might ask if they have any bigger seats. The answer, of course, is no; there is only so much an attendant can do. Travel in uncomfortable. An attendant might also be in a hospital, or at a school, or in a hotel. In which case I might ask, to what end are there attendants anywhere? An attendant never misses nothing. They always only do their best.
I, am an attendant.
The only thing left is that attendant ache, leaving you a rotted out wooden shell, empty. It sits in your chest patiently, writhing with each shallow inhale. You try to claw this feeling out of you, but succeed only in cracking through the splinters of your chest. Something rattles loose, and you watch as your heart tumbles from the hole and into your hand. It is there that it breaks open. Maggot-peppered, the disintigrating pulp that used to be solid wood squirms with agitation. Worthless. Disgusting.
Yet you cannot quite convince yourself to fling it away and wipe your hands clean.
Lately, I feel like I’m not even attending my own life. My body feels like a foreign shell I pilot from the inside like a robot, but I’m separated from the experience. I’m here, but I’m not. What has exorcised me from my being?
The snow falls gently by my side as he looks on. I blink at him. The attendant peeks her head out of the train and calls out ten minutes until departure. I take a step toward the unmoving tracks, but he doesn’t stop me. He never did. My happiness always meant more to him than what he wanted. I thought he would stand up for himself today, but as I now watch him from the compartment window, he smiles at me as my insides tear apart.
i am the attendant at your death. you shall neither see me nor hear me, but i am with you. am i good, bad or innate? impassive to your death shall you be, and an attendant shall i.
I had a feeling we’d get along. Both in the same moment, trapped and captivated by the breaths you take and the sighs I let out. My hand raises up, limply acknowledging I’m here. You do too, shortly after. Both attendants in the same moment, caught in the stillness of time and together.
Do you ever just feel like all you need to do is cry? Like you can’t do anything else. And maybe nothing even triggered it, you just want to cry your heart out. I want to cry. But I know I need to be strong. If anyone sees me cry they will ask why and I don’t have a good answer, so just let me cry in peace.
flight attendant. this is a term used now instead of stewardess. i don’t know if i like it or not. it seems impersonal. it does not have the same nostagia as ‘stweardess’. ;lkj;kj
Attention! Attention! Watch as I wave my arms and demonstrate how to keep you from harms way. Today is the day we’ll go down in flames. A moment that will be forever framed in twisted 747 metal, and body parts will float and settle on the shore of the future you’ll never see. And believe me, while I direct you with smiles and winks, quelling your fears at 10,000 miles high.
He was so patient with me, as he always is. He has the type of eyes you couldn’t lie to. So I try to speak as little to him as possible. It might slip from my lips, that I want his to rest on mine.
the attendant was acting strange when i went to collect my car. I had to call the police before things got out of hand.
She was beautiful, and she could never be his. How can a woman so calm amongst clouds belong to anyone? The person desiring her had to fly. He couldn’t fly, though he wished he could. He wanted to fly just so he could give her a flower, and stay with her far from ground – far from reality.
Sometimes, attendants can be really annoying. Like hpw they always smile at you and ask ‘Hiii how may I help you?” When all you want is to sit on the couch of ur hotel room and drink some coffee. WHy must they always put on that fake smile on their faces? It’s disturbing and annoying at the same time!
I love you. You probably cant hear me with your ears filled with blood, but I loved you. You gave me purpose. You showed me reason.
the attendant reached the client and asked the question that everyone had been wanting to know, ‘do you want fries with that?’
“Attendant! Attendant!” I called, until my lungs were inflamed. No matter how much I increased the volume of my voice or how long the intervals were when I stopped calling out, no one would answer. Suddenly I realized that everything around me had vanished.
They were always sitting around. I felt myself grow disgusted from the site of all the women cackling in the lobby, lifting their legs like I couldn’t see up their skirts and then shooting me odd looks. What was it about? And why were there so many flight attendants gathered around the lobby everyday. Shouldn’t they be flying somewhere?
the first attendant.
the second attendant.
the runners ups.
as she walked down the aisle. upon the floor flowers everywhere and in the air lil’ beams of light, lil orbs hanging.
in the air the whisp smell of flowers.
a garden, a fairytale.
this was her dream wedding.
as she walked down that aisle.
The flight attendant winded around the corner of the aisle and strode towards the cockpit. She smiled to the co-pilot as he exited the area and gave her a nod and a tip of his hat. It was close, she thought. When he had gone, she checked the bomb from behind the curtain.
She approached me.
The attendant at the meeting looked at me and smiled. His eyes were a deep blue, set in the middle with a lighter blue on the edges. God I could get lost in those eyes. He cleared his throat and began his speech on…well…I don’t actually remember since I was too busy staring. When it was over I smiled and applauded like the others.
The public was her duty. Pleasing them was her job. Her occupation quickly began to consume her. She was no one but the name on her badge.
I Love You
You are an amazing person
You are a creator of your own reality
You are Great
Thank You
We stepped through another marble archway and into the common room. There were myriad people about the place, gathered in small groups and talking casually to one another in accents I’d never heard before. No sooner than we had arrived did an attendant shuffle forth from behind a folding screen in the corner and herd us as if shooing dogs to a side room beneath an uncomfortably large tapestry of Jules McMercury, the late heir to the Idea Corporation, and a man I once deeply despised.
There are some things that you can never imagine about some people. Sure, she was pretty awkward and discordant before, but sitting there as an attendant to her storytelling, I couldn’t help but feel some remorse for how I viewed her.
The attendant walked towards me. I was nervous. What could she possibly want? I had all my papers in order. There was nothing left to say. But the thought of an interrogation, of being brought into a small room, with no air and no windows, it was already suffocating. I pulled my papers together, out of my bag and readied for the stream of questions I was sure she would shoot at me. Even if I had everything in order, I was still scared, as always, about most things. Perhaps I just had a guilty face, that is, my guilt just swept though me, over me and appeared on my person, even if there was nothing to fell guilty about.
I was walking in the airport and saw a flight attendant pass me by. She was pretty, and I realized that I wanted to be a flight attendant too. She was an attendant for American airlines, which is the worst airlines in the world. I would rather be an attendant to Air Japan.
The attendant walked up to their table and handed them the wrapped bag. A quick nod of his cap and the attendant scurried off. They both looked at the bag with odd, inquisitive looks. It was small, and such an odd shape.
a personal slave.
A peanut bringer
Someone who helps you to find your seat
She keeps hitting my elbows with her drink cart
the flight attendant pushed her cart down the aisle as i gazed out the window at the clouds accumulating into a storm. yet again i was being sent off into the unknown and i liked it more than anything
the attendant at a wedding,,,what is that really? What do they attend to? Do they attend the wedding? Well, then, aren’t we all just attendants? Aren’t we all attendants where ever we go? Maybe a flight attendant,,,,but aren’t we all attending the flight?????
I heard a really disturbing story about a flight attendant and a pilot going insane and freaking out about how the plane is going to be taken over and crashed. Is Jet Blue pumping their cockpits full of crazy drugs or something? It makes me nervous that the people in charge of my safety 30,000 feet in the air are going to spaz and wind up driving me into the ground. Just saying.
She stood, with her perfect shiny hair pulled into a perfect shiny bun; a practised smile on a practised face. Nuts or biscuits, she asks.
Can I attend to you needs when you don’t attend to mine? Friends are mutual attendants in each other’s lives. But sometimes, we see the compassion of others, being an attendant to us…and its confusing, but isn’t the world better that way when we attend others without some kind of return?
Haha oh, to be attended to. I don’t think any of us ever feels like we are well-attended. An attendant might be on an airplane, in which case I might ask if they have any bigger seats. The answer, of course, is no; there is only so much an attendant can do. Travel in uncomfortable. An attendant might also be in a hospital, or at a school, or in a hotel. In which case I might ask, to what end are there attendants anywhere? An attendant never misses nothing. They always only do their best.
I, am an attendant.
The attendant left. I sat down at my table in a huff. What an idiot. No water on the table.
After the end of everything…
The only thing left is that attendant ache, leaving you a rotted out wooden shell, empty. It sits in your chest patiently, writhing with each shallow inhale. You try to claw this feeling out of you, but succeed only in cracking through the splinters of your chest. Something rattles loose, and you watch as your heart tumbles from the hole and into your hand. It is there that it breaks open. Maggot-peppered, the disintigrating pulp that used to be solid wood squirms with agitation. Worthless. Disgusting.
Yet you cannot quite convince yourself to fling it away and wipe your hands clean.
Lately, I feel like I’m not even attending my own life. My body feels like a foreign shell I pilot from the inside like a robot, but I’m separated from the experience. I’m here, but I’m not. What has exorcised me from my being?
The snow falls gently by my side as he looks on. I blink at him. The attendant peeks her head out of the train and calls out ten minutes until departure. I take a step toward the unmoving tracks, but he doesn’t stop me. He never did. My happiness always meant more to him than what he wanted. I thought he would stand up for himself today, but as I now watch him from the compartment window, he smiles at me as my insides tear apart.
flight attendant, airplane, smiling, happy, helpful, travel, peanuts, seatbelt please! screaming children, crabby old people, stinky bathrooms, 14 hour flights, long days, short nights.
i am the attendant at your death. you shall neither see me nor hear me, but i am with you. am i good, bad or innate? impassive to your death shall you be, and an attendant shall i.
I had a feeling we’d get along. Both in the same moment, trapped and captivated by the breaths you take and the sighs I let out. My hand raises up, limply acknowledging I’m here. You do too, shortly after. Both attendants in the same moment, caught in the stillness of time and together.
Do you ever just feel like all you need to do is cry? Like you can’t do anything else. And maybe nothing even triggered it, you just want to cry your heart out. I want to cry. But I know I need to be strong. If anyone sees me cry they will ask why and I don’t have a good answer, so just let me cry in peace.
flight attendant. this is a term used now instead of stewardess. i don’t know if i like it or not. it seems impersonal. it does not have the same nostagia as ‘stweardess’. ;lkj;kj
Attention! Attention! Watch as I wave my arms and demonstrate how to keep you from harms way. Today is the day we’ll go down in flames. A moment that will be forever framed in twisted 747 metal, and body parts will float and settle on the shore of the future you’ll never see. And believe me, while I direct you with smiles and winks, quelling your fears at 10,000 miles high.
be an attendant to my pain
be a doctor, make my heart well again
“Oh my gosh I think I saw you before! Aren’t you that famous singer from that tv show? No? Oh you’re just a flight attendant in this plane? Oh okay.”
At the concert he sings. By the river she dances. Near the hill you write.
Waiting for that moment when the three are more.
“Holy crap, aren’t you Eartha Kitt?”
“Shh, we don’t want the flight attendant to hear do we?” She tsks at him, grinning like a cat.
“I’m Pierce, you may have heard of me. I’m big in the world of moist towelettes. Well I’m big everywhere but-”
She kisses him to keep him quiet, pressing him up against the door of the airplane bathroom.
He was so patient with me, as he always is. He has the type of eyes you couldn’t lie to. So I try to speak as little to him as possible. It might slip from my lips, that I want his to rest on mine.