in the small , faraway corners of her mind-humming , even as the rest of her has gone limp with exhaustion-she 's on another flight , the one she missed , three hours farther along and seated beside a middle-aged man with a twitching mustache who sneezes and flinches his way across the atlantic , never saying a word to her as she grows ever more anxious , her hand pressed against the window , where beyond the glass there is nothing but nothing but nothing .