How did I get here?

The first thing Amanda noticed when she gained consciousness was the humming of the engines, which muffled the voices and other sounds of the cabin around her.

As she opened her eyes, she realized she was high above the clouds. White clouds that looked like a floor. Not fluffy. Not wispy. More like a horizontal white monolith.

Shifting her gaze, Amanda could tell she wasn't in coach. She was flying first class, and was one of only two people in the cabin. The lone other person was a couple of rows ahead of her, and didn't seem the least bit concerned or aware of her presence.

"May I get you another mimosa, Miss?"

Amanda turned to the voice. A young male flight attendant was picking up an empty champagne flute from the seat divider next to her.

"Another?" he asked.

Amanda nodded once, then as he turned to go, asked "excuse me?"

"Yes maam?"

"Where are we?"

"We just flew over Kansas City."

"Kansas City?"

"Yes maam. Will there be anything else?"

"No, I mean yes. Where are we .... going?"

"Going maam?" The flight attendant, whose nametag read Grant, asked, brow furrowed.

"What is our destination?" Amanda asked. Thinking that although she was completely in the dark about her current situation, she wasn't ready for him to cut her off from the champagne just yet, considering she hadn't remembered having ANY champagne, so she said "I mean, I travel so frequently that sometimes I forget what airport I'm about to land. You know, similar to a rock star who plays a different city every night, although of course, I'm not a rock star" she laughed nervously.

Or am I? she wondered to herself. Of course not. She knew her name. She was Amanda Browning. She was 38 years old, and lived on Anna Maria Island in Florida.

"Of course," he smiled with relief. Normally crazies didn't fly in first class, but you never knew.