The man across from me copies my actions
I think he took a picture of me
We are both loners in row twelve
We stare through our windows, taking pictures
My seat sucks, so I move to the middle
I look over, so does he
I ask for the price of a snack, two dollars
He does the same
My water sits on the isle seat tray
So does his
Stuardises come for trash, my coffee jumps in
So does his
Coincidences are a strange thing
His name is Stan.
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