He dragged his carry-on luggage through the terminal, expecting the worst. When was hearing your name over the loudspeaker at an airport ever welcome?
He landed at the desk and locked eyes with the gate agent. She was cute, but all business. Hardly a good sign.
He gave up his name and braced for impact.
“You’ve been upgraded,” she said with a big smile, handing him a new ticket.
He stood there dumbfounded.
“It’s the cast, isn’t it?” he grinned, holding up his bandaged left arm. “Feeling a bit sympathetic?”
She laughed and told him no.
“It’s your blue eyes.”
The Weekday One Hundred 