“Sorry,” Sally said, pushing through the crowd, “oh! I didn’t mean to knock you over, but I can’t stop.” Checking her phone, she frowned and pressed onward.
“Hey, that was my foot.”
“Sorry,” she said, galloping sideways, arms as wedges. She held her shoulder bag tightly by the strap. Still, it fishtailed behind her, flagellating those scowling unfortunates left in her wake.
“Final call for boarding, flight 919A with service to Honolulu departing Gate 23Bravo.”
“Wait,” She screamed, tripping through the last group, “Hold the Plane!” She held out her boarding pass.
“I’m sorry, ma’am we’ve already retracted the jetway.”