Standing at the edge of the asphalt in a worn brown canvas jacket, faded denim jeans, and a baseball cap was Frank Miller.
With his hands casually resting near his jacket pockets, Frank took a slow step forward onto the runway threshold.
"You might want to stop that plane, Linda," Frank called out in a calm, steady baritone.
Chapter II: The Arrogant Dismissal
Linda lowered her glass, lowering her sunglasses to glare at the casual onlooker with venomous condescension. The assembled crowd stopped clapping, turning their heads in murmurs of irritation.
"You don't have the authority to stop anything, Frank," Linda scoffed into the microphone, her tone dripping with ridicule. "This runway was funded and approved by the Prairie Ridge Board. Take your complaints back to your tractor."