At the start of the flight he could tell she was nervous. By the way she gripped the armrest and how her eyes danced to every corner of the tiny aircraft. She had contained her fright pretty well, up until the take off. That’s what scared her the most about planes.
The name of the person was Old Man Harold. The woman didn't chose the name, other people did. Old Man Harold stood there every day in the afternoon, with the same clothes, the same smell, and the same look.
