"Flight attendants, take your seats, all passengers, check the buckle on your seat belts, we're expecting some weather up ahead."

Alice tossed back the rest of her vodka tonic. Pre-ordering in advance meant she was served first after the initial take-off and climb were finished. The plane shuddered as the first patch of rough air passed over the wings. That's all? Hardly worth sending everyone to their seats, Alice mused.  She had experienced far worse.

The next jolt caused the remaining ice cubes to leap out of her cup and onto the floor. Passengers behind her gasped. Alice frowned; this was going to be ugly. The plane would be fine, but she'd have to contend with a hoard of screaming and crying adults as though they were about to die, and there was no way she would be capable of getting any work done in this turbulence.

The next jolt caused even Alice's travel-seasoned fingers to dig into the armrest. This is going to be really ugly, she thought. For the next twenty minutes, the plane bucked and dropped. Passengers screamed, lightening flashes were constantly surrounding the plane like paparazzi flashes, and through it all Alice grimaced during the worst plane ride she could recall.

As the bucking and bouncing became less violent, she noticed the young man in the row ahead of her was gone. Alice couldn't remember seeing him go to the lavatory, but then again, she hadn't been paying much attention to her surroundings. Alice looked down at the floor, making sure her laptop bag hadn't slid too far away. But her eyes caught something else-- a small, white, shape next to her bag. It wasn't a bug, but what was it? Her brain said "doll" but how could a doll move like that? She hadn't even noticed any children who might've dropped it. Finally, taking advantage of a momentary break in the turbulence, Alice loosened her seat belt, reached down, and scooped the thing up.

Immediately, she recognized the man who ran in to her. Her mind raced. How did he get so small? Was this even him? What was going on? He was fighting her fingers, trying to twist around and face her. Alice, perhaps feeling the vodka tonic, slipped the finger-height man into her coat pocket, leaned back, and re-tightened her seatbelt. The man next to her was too busy praying, and the man next to him was too busy trying not to hyperventilate to have noticed anything.

The softest, most gently touch underneath her left breast was an incredible sensation. Alice bit her bottom lip as she tried to calm herself down, but the little man would not stop. She was about to gently pat her coat from the outside when another shudder of turbulence accomplished the same thing for her. Alice felt him rise up, then drop back into the bottom of the pocket. His continued movements led her to believe he wasn't dead, just... quieted. Unlike her mind, which was racing with possibilities.