Linda Simone Unfinished crossword on flight to San Francisco I sit where you sat, pick up where you left off, filling the section edged by one across, four down. Your answers annoy. Inane only fits in length, not meaning. The rest— your challenge to me. I tap out with fingers words stuck to tongue's tip. Hours pass. Later I'll be sorry I didn't sleep. But I can't stop— Why did you? Surely you knew Do (blank) others...? (four letters, starts with "u") Did your meal arrive? Did you yank seat belt tight against chop of currents? Was your head swollen from used-up air? I've solved it all— except that damn inane part you started.  Somehow your pencil strokes block me,  even erased. No answer key,  I stuff magazine tight into seat pocket at my knee— daring the next flyer.

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