The only time I've ever come close to experiencing Hell on Earth was when I used to take my annual flight from Chicago to Sydney. The hours were long, the seats were hard, and the meals tasted terrible. It has been decades now, but I can still remember the boredom and back pain like it was yesterday.
I flew first class because it was the only way I could make it all the way without pulling half of my hair out. I needed to maintain my appearance, you see, because I had been preparing my notes for a set of business meetings that I had to attend. I was never the most handsome man on the planet, but I tried my best with what I had. My thick glasses wrapped their way across my tiny skull and wavy black hair. I was short and didn't have a single muscle in my body, but it wasn't my appearance that helped pay for that first class ticket. Instead of good looks, I had brains. Instead of making party friends, I found working friends. Instead of popularity, I had the fourth largest business in the world, and I loved every moment of it.

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• Literature & FictionShort Stories

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