Sam looked into a dark room. He hunted for the light switch — found it. Three lamps, situated around the room, shone with a yellow tint. The aroma of whiskey rose from the carpet. Sam looked around.
A bed at one end and a desk at the other. A window with curtains pulled shut, blocking out the night — a stain on the carpet. Model airplanes hung from the ceiling. Flying.
Sam pulled out a chair and sat down at the desk. He set his whiskey on a coaster, stained. The pieces of a model covered the desktop. Edges touching but misaligned. A layer of dust over everything. Sam leaned forward and blew on the pieces. A gritty cloud lifted, and he swept it away with his hands. He grabbed a half-used tube of super glue from the left drawer.
Sam held a part, pointed at one end, with fins covering the other. He applied glue to the space between the two fins and set the tube down. He picked up a fin and held it in the glue. He counted to sixty. Letting go of the fin, he set the part down.
Sam’s eye went to the top half of a wing. He picked it up along with another, similar one. He held them together. He set the smaller piece down and looked through the parts on the desk. He got up. A piece lay behind the desk. It was small and circular. He looked at the bed.
There, a part, half under the floor-length duvet. Sam reached for the piece — it resisted. He tugged, and it was free. He sat back down at the desk. He drank whiskey, then grabbed the super glue.
