The fucking lights

Tith the sun beginning to rise, the cabin of the jetliner was suddenly illuminated. “Who turned on the fucking lights?” a male passenger, who had been surly since boarding, snarled at a stewardess. The girl had had enough of this particular character. “These are the breakfast lights, sir,” she answered with forced sweetness. “The fucking lights are much dimmer, and you snored right through them.”


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The fucking lights