FL0002
"NO HARD FEELINGS"
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DATELINE: THE MOON-DRENCHED BEACH, AGAIN
(4:02 AM, year unknown)
Fellow passengers, it’s another beautiful day in the Limoverse. We’d like you to know that our Care Division is looking into the sand situation. Your safety and comfort, as always, are our top priority. You’ve spoken and we’re listening.
We’re listening with our ears pressed to the ground. We have some seaweed and a smoke machine. We’re not zoned for this, never have been. But we’re working to make it right and we’re listening.
We’re listening for the last syllable of recorded time. We’re listening for the remains of a borrowed handshake. We’re afraid of yes and afraid of no but we’re soft like the reed and we’re listening.
We’ve let you down. We’ve let us down. We’re letting ourselves down into the sand right now, listening for something clear, a slow drip from the bleeding hearts of the earth. We know they’re in here somewhere.
We’ve turned down the ocean for your comfort. We’ve turned the place inside out. We’ve moved the mountains closer to the millstones and for every grain of sand you count we’re counting one for someone in need.
We think we might need to lie down. Somewhere thicker than air, softer than ground? Whatever you have around. We’re at a loss for words and a loss for worlds but we’re listening.
For safety, our refreshments in the main cabin will be temporarily limited to toast and tea. We’d like to thank you for your patience. When service resumes we’ll be pleased to offer:
Mujaddara with the wrong grain
Coffee cake with the wrong flour
We ask that everyone remain seated while we listen for the sigh, the silent creak that turns the tide.