A slivered window reminiscent of an almond,

Stares back at me.

A curled brown lock of hair obstructing my view, on occasion.

Dried, nearly saltless pretzels coat my mouth.

I wonder to myself, 

why I never buy the snacks I eat on airplanes.

Why I never go scout at the grocery store 

For a snack I may have enjoyed.

A predicament I face 

Under the pretense of receiving a snack I have never received on a flight before.

‘Woman Owned’ marks the back

A company I would enjoy to support

But I know to myself I will not. 

Why is that?

Why deprive ourselves of the enjoyable,

the impossible.