When he got back he sent me some beautiful flowers and asked me out for dinner.We went to this little French place, very romantic. I wore a teal cocktail dress. My bare legs stretched down to a dainty pair of black high heel mules, they had the smallest strap going across. I couldn’t have more of my feet on display without being barefoot. I had a toe-ring on my right foot and an anklet on my left leg. The waiter escorted me to our table. My feet were slapping against my heels as I followed him across the room.Stephen was there waiting for me. We caught up on what had been happening in our lives.He was mesmerised during dinner as I dangled my heels, letting them get to the end of my toes and then slapping them back. By the coffee stage, his hand was running down my leg and stroking my foot.We moved into the bar for some more drinks, settling on a couple of bar stools. We giggled about the fun we had the other day.“ I can’t believe you went without underwear the rest of the day.’’“It. “Mommy, are we going to die,” one small child asked his parent.“No honey, we’ll be just fine,” she answered. The quivering in her voice betrayed her own concern.“Those wings are made to withstand one and a half times what they should ever come across in flight,” a man behind us said to the woman sitting next to him. “The wing tips can be flexed up to ninety degrees without damage. It’s that flexibility that keeps them from breaking.”“Yes dear,” the woman said. “You tell me that every time we fly.”“Is that true?” Angie asked me.“I sure hope so,” I responded.Just then we dropped again. It actually felt like I was lifted out of my seat.“That was a bad one,” the man behind me said.“Yes dear,” his wife calmly responded.“Chase, I don’t want to be a statistic. I’m not ready to die,” Angie said.“We’ll be Ok. I bet the worst is behind us.”A short while later, the pilot’s voice came on over the loudspeaker.“Thank you for your patience. That was a rough ride. That should be the end of the rough.
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