text:  
  
  Your damp, shaking hand holds out the ticket. The agent smiles--a real, human smile--and tells you to have a nice flight. You walk past them and get on the plane. Their eyes never leave you, but they don’t move. Apparently you’ve earned the right to get on the plane.
  
  
  As you get into the cabin, you halt. There's a goblin in an empty seat. (An empty first-class seat--pretty bloody annoying.) It’s somehow wearing what looks like an expensive pinstriped suit, and the stupid flight attendant is handing him some wine.
  
  
  In the pocket of the seat in front of you is a postcard showing Times Square. You slide it out and flip it over.
  
  
  Rest and eat.This ain't finished yet.
  
  
  Well, isn’t that great. You’d love to eat--if you had any friggin’ food.
  
  
  This is just so stupid. What’s even the point of it? Goblins. Gremlins, or whatever they are. They’re bright Crayola green--they don’t even look realistic.
  
  
  Dmitri appears in front of you. “Hi,” he says, but he’s talking to the guy in the middle seat beside you. “I have an exit row seat--would you mind switching so I can sit by my girlfriend?”
  
  
  The guy is only too happy to switch to an exit row, and soon Dmitri is settled beside you.
  
  
  “I’m not your girlfriend,” you say. How are you even going to explain this whole crazy debacle to your boyfriend?
  
  
  Easy: you won’t. How could you? It’s unexplainable. You’ve become good at knowing which things not to bother Keith with, and this is definitely one of them.
  
  
  “I know,” Dmitri said. “But I didn’t think he would switch if we were just friends.”
  
  
  “Well, that’s really stupid.” You probably shouldn’t be taking this out on him, seeing as he rescued you and all, but you are hungry and exhausted and you know he’s about to ask a bunch of questions you can’t answer and you just want this stupid trip to be over already. “So the only good reason to sit beside someone is if you’re having sex with them? So what if we’re friends? Friends talk. Is having a conversation not a good enough reason to sit beside someone?”
  
  
  “Clara,” he says. “What’s going on?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. It just happened.” You explain what you can about the postcards and the goblins. You hand him the postcard, but he finds the handwriting impossible to read--which makes no sense, it’s sloppy, but not that sloppy.
  
  
  “Do you think they’ll actually kill you?”
  
  
  “Yes,” you say. “I do.”
  
  
  He takes your hand.
  
  
  Not long after, you fall asleep.You wake up to the stewardess’ voice.
  
  
  “Miss Conner, here’s the meal you ordered for this flight.” She seems to be in a hurry, and pulls your tray out for you so she can set it down and attend to something else.
  
  
  It appears to be a chicken salad sandwich and some chips. Which you definitely did not order.
  
  
  You realize you’re nauseous, and incredibly hungry again.  
  
  
  Should you eat this incredibly sketchy food?
  > You know what, whatever. Why the hell not.
   
  
  You eat, and you immediately you feel better. 
  
  
   
  
  When it’s time to get off the plane, the goblin is already gone, just like all the other first-class passengers. A glass with a few traces of red wine is on the tray beside his seat.
  
  
   
  
  You walk through JFK with Dmitri. He holds your hand, watching your face for any sign of them, but there are no goblins.
  
  
   
  
  You get your luggage from baggage claim and turn toward the exit. Outside is a long line of taxis.
  
  
   
  
  In front of the door is a huge goblin. Taller than you. His head is above the archway.
  
  
   
  
  “There’s one there,” you say dully to Dmitri, pointing toward it.
  
  
   
  
  His eyes follow your finger. He squints hard. “I think," he says slowly, "I see a...a shadow.”
  
  
   
  
  There are about ten sets of doors to the taxi line, so you turn toward another one and start hurrying toward it. It probably won’t work, but hey, what do you have to lose?
  
  
   
  
  It doesn’t move. “Go ahead.”
  
  
   
  
  You turn, shocked. They’ve never spoken before.
  
  
   
  
  “If you do, I’ll follow you. I’ll never kill you, but I’ll never stop following.”
  
  
   
  
  Oh. Well, great. Fighting him seems like a losing proposition. Sure, he doesn’t look terribly fast or strong, but you aren’t either--and you’ve got skin, not hard, armor-like scales. Also, he's huge. 
  
  
   
  
  But you also can’t let him follow you around forever.
  
  
   
  
  What should you do?
  
  
   
  > You know what, this ends now. Fight him.
   
  
  Okay, what will you fight him with?
  
  
   
  
  You now have your heavy, hard-sided suitcase, with a large textbook and the statue you planned to give to Keith's parents inside. Despite its weight, you could probably get it over your head, and since it's already in your hand, speed would be on your side.
  
  
   
  
  Nearby is a frail old lady carrying a long umbrella with a fairly pointy metal tip.
  
  
   
  
  Also nearby is a large, heavy metal luggage cart, which you definitely couldn't lift over your head but might do some serious damage if used like a battering ram.