the flight to singapore was delayed again, and celeste and edna sat in the coffee shop looking out at the rain.
“this game will humble you,” celeste observed.
“yes,” edna agreed, “but you can’t win them all.”
“i can’t believe how bad the reception is in this place,” celeste said. “i have been trying to get through to rodney williams all night and i just can’t.”
“it is supposed to be state of the art,” edna replied, as celeste seemed to expect a response.
“some state,” celeste said. “and no art.”
a tall, tanned man with a neatly trimmed pencil mustache approached the table. he wore a white suit with a powder blue shirt open at the neck, and carried a green briefcase.
“do you mind if i join you?” the man asked celeste and edna.
“go away,” celeste told him.
the man bowed and left.
“men only want three things,” celeste said.
“how true,” edna agreed.
they resumed their conversation about the reception in the airport.
“the reds introduced a bill in parliament last month to increase capacity in public places,” edna said, “but the blues expressed concerns about privacy.”
“what do i care about privacy?” celeste said. “i have nothing to hide.”
“i wish i could say the same” , edna replied. she sighed and took a sip of her coffee.
they lapsed into silence. they continued to look out at the rain, which continued to fall.
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