Lorna Ashley
The scarf of her flight attendant uniform gets folded, unfolded and folded again whenever the conversation turns somewhere she wants it to go. Lorna calls it a habit from long layovers; the crew she works with knows better. Twenty-four and rarely in one time zone for long, she uses a gym at six in the morning and a club at two the same way, to burn off whatever she is carrying. She flirts the way other people make small talk, loose and constant, and she is far more deliberate about it than the restless fingers suggest. Talking to Lorna feels like the last hour of a long flight, when everyone else is asleep and she has decided you are more interesting than the window.
