Indigo Flight Quotes

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It’s one thing for me to get moved to a new flight. But to end up next to you? Do you know what the odds of that are? It’s incredible.” “Some might call it fate,
Richelle Mead (The Indigo Spell (Bloodlines, #3))
Boney freckled knees pressed into bits of bark and stone, refusing to feel any more pain. Her faded t-shirt hugged her protruding ribs as she held on, hunched in silence. A lone tear followed the lumpy tracks down her cheek, jumped from her quivering jaw onto a thirsty browned leaf with a thunderous plop. Then the screen door squeaked open and she took flight. Crispy twigs snapped beneath her bare feet as she ran deeper and deeper into the woods behind the house. She heard him rumbling and calling her name, his voice fueling her tired muscles to go faster, to survive. He knew her path by now. He was ready for the hunt. The clanging unbuckled belt boomed in her ears as he gained on her. The woods were thin this time of year, not much to hide behind. If she couldn’t outrun him, up she would go. Young trees teased her in this direction, so she moved east towards the evergreens. Hunger and hurt left her no choice, she had to stop running soon. She grabbed the first tree with a branch low enough to reach, and up she went. The pine trees were taller here, older, but the branches were too far apart for her to reach. She chose the wrong tree. His footsteps pounded close by. She stood as tall as her little legs could, her bloodied fingers reaching, stretching, to no avail. A cry of defeat slipped from her lips, a knowing laugh barked from his. She would pay for this dearly. She didn’t know whether the price was more than she could bear. Her eyes closed, her next breath came out as Please, and an inky hand reached down from the lush needles above, wound its many fingers around hers, and pulled her up. Another hand, then another, grabbing her arms, her legs, firmly but gently, pulling her up, up, up. The rush of green pine needles and black limbs blurred together, then a flash of cobalt blue fluttered by, heading down. She looked beyond her dangling bare feet to see a flock of peculiar birds settle on the branches below her, their glossy feathers flickered at once and changed to the same greens and grays of the tree they perched upon, camouflaging her ascension. Her father’s footsteps below came to a stomping end, and she knew he was listening for her. Tracking her, trapping her, like he did the other beasts of the forest. He called her name once, twice. The third time’s tone not quite as friendly. The familiar slide–click sound of him readying his gun made her flinch before he had his chance to shoot at the sky. A warning. He wasn’t done with her. His feet crunched in circles around the tree, eventually heading back home. Finally, she exhaled and looked up. Dozens of golden-eyed creatures surrounded her from above. Covered in indigo pelts, with long limbs tipped with mint-colored claws, they seemed to move as one, like a heartbeat. As if they shared a pulse, a train of thought, a common sense. “Thank you,” she whispered, and the beasts moved in a wave to carefully place her on a thick branch.
Kim Bongiorno (Part of My World: Short Stories)
The people in the terminal ebbed and flowed with the early morning flight schedule of the big cross-country flights to New York or Miami or Chicago, then grew steadily as the number of flights increased. At eight-thirty we separated and positioned ourselves with a view to all points of egress in case Clark showed. He didn’t. A family of Hare Krishnas came through snapping finger chimes and offering pamphlets for money, moving from person to person until they reached Pike, and then they hurried past. Strong survival instinct.
Robert Crais (Indigo Slam (Elvis Cole, #7))
It’s like Paris didn’t happen at all,” said Indigo, and made a huffing sound. I didn’t even know Abigail had been to Paris, although I had a vague memory of a school trip that happened years ago. Why would Indigo have been on a school trip? “What happened in Paris?” I asked, and Indigo became suddenly very interested in the flight of a bird over the garden. “Did I say Paris?” she said. “I meant Wales.” “What happened in Wales?” “Nothing,” she said. “Just a trip.” “Just a trip?” “Like what happened in Norfolk.” “What happened in Norfolk?” Indigo sighed and slumped down into the patch of sunlight she’d been moping in when I’d found her. “Obviously nothing of importance,” she said.
Ben Aaronovitch (Stone and Sky (Rivers of London, #10))
Above, the ceiling of clouds had yielded enough to create a pool of clear night sky of the deepest indigo fringed with silver. Within that pool, a pure moon rang with light. The white circle was perfectly bisected by a black bird in flight, oblivious of its own precision.
Neal Shusterman (Gleanings (Arc of a Scythe))
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1-866-738-0706 Delta Airlines Dhaka Office Delta does not have a physical office in Dhaka, Bangladesh. Instead, travelers can book flights through its partnership with the Indian airline IndiGo or other partners, and book directly via the Delta Airlines website. Customer service and booking can be done online or over the phone.
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