Just like herself, her inner voice, which sounds a little too much like her sister, Laura, says. She peers once more at the tips of her sensible court shoes and makes sure that the straps around her body are wound tied, then pats her hat to make sure that her azure-colored hair has not disarranged its trim position, and last of all, feels in her pocket for that crisp and reassuring letter that told her to be here at noon on Monday morning for an interview with the Stewardess Selection Board.
It all feels like a dream.
Slowly, she walks into the impressive building, security guards at every corner scrunching their noses at her, sniffing out her animal to make sure that she isn't a threat, and then immediately dismissing her when they figure out what she is. She sniffs and tries not to tak
