Heart of an air hostess.

As heart of a waitress, but in the air. As take-off, landing, the journey anywhere. Like an ad. Heart of a passenger with a mission of moving ahead, a plan to leave and come back maybe. An experience, something that was fun, enjoyable, would be fun to remember. It was a beat, a calling, a seduction, a vacation, a job, moving of a body. It takes a lot to make that beating of a heart as it continues, on and on, and why the muscle hits with the rhythm of the same, with pace of similar but individual. We recognize it and think we know it. Beat of choosing, pushing the button of a destination on computer screen. Palm trees and going there, arriving there, exploring it there, learning it. Having a good time there.
The heart as warmth, a symbol of love and strength, a warm bloody gushy sounding organ inside her, kindness and hospitality, a smile on her. For passengers to ask for help, to place trust upon as you paid for it, someone to count on. Moving on with a cart with drinks and snacks. Sitting down to rest her feet. Hearts of many air hostesses moving back and forth on passages in the air to take care of passengers.