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Planesong

Harris was on his half-hour break. Luz, on the latter of her two 15-minute breaks, sat across from him. They faced each other, but not quite squarely, and Luz looked frequently out her window as they spoke—at an endless and familiar yonder of blue that was, today, shot through with soft, saffron undertones. Harris tried to look at something other than Luz, which wasn't easy, with her pin-straight black hair and supple skin and her collarbones looking like they had been carved by a renaissance artist.