– Yes, miss. You could have sprained your neck here. I read it too, albeit in other sources. – he straightened up, as happens when you suddenly remember that this is an important person in front of you, or you just want to show off in front of a young woman. – Iver Larsen from Copenhagen. Nice to meet you. – a man of about forty-five with a beautiful Greek nose extended his right hand as if he had only dreamed of doing this the entire flight. Surprisingly, he wasn’t so kind when landing, he didn’t even help her carry her bags upstairs.
– Glenda Miller from London, now from Copenhagen. I'm planning to buy a house there.
“Why am I telling him everything? Maybe I miss communication so much that I’m ready to pour out my soul even to strangers? Well, he is handsome, strong build, light brown, somewhere ashy hair, gray-blue eyes. Typical Scandinavian, but very attractive. A little old, but there is something so familiar about it. I think he can be trusted. Fortunately, there is no ring on my finger.”
While all this heap of thoughts ran through her naturally beautiful, but tired from sobbing, head, Glenda drank the juice that that same inattentive flight attendant Anna had so kindly served.
Iver also slowly sipped a Coca-Cola and looked over the seats towards the pilot’s cabin.
“Something happened there five minutes ago, as if we were in a dangerous zone, something like the center of a thundercloud, into which the plane is forbidden to fly.”
– You were asleep, weren't you?
– Yes, but I have good hearing. Coming out of the cockpit, the flight attendant forgot to close it for a moment, and I heard a couple of remarks.
– And what did you hear? – Glenda asked almost with delight. Her body pulled closer to the speaker, her face burned with interest, and goosebumps ran across her skin. This happens to children when, on a late autumn evening, their grandmother tells creepy stories in an armchair by the fireplace. You seem to be scared, but you feel so comfortable, because there is someone nearby who will save you from all the monsters of the world.
– “Branch of Hell.” We can't get around. We are walking straight into the face of death…
– What, that’s what they said?
– Yes. I reproduced it exactly.
– What a nightmare. What else have you heard? – No matter how hard she tried, the bloody faces could not leave Glenda’s head. Still, she managed to overcome herself and push away the terrible memories for a while.