small world (too small)

As soon as I entered the meeting room at work, I cast my eyes on my foreign guests, expecting the regular round of middle aged suited men with protruding bellies and botoxed foreheads. This time, my eyes caught sight of a face so striking it made my insides quiver like a Myanmar hurricane. Its hard to describe a uniquely genuine good looking man; words like "beautiful", "handsome", "attractive" will not do him justice. His skin was a golden honeyed caramel, and his butterfly eyes were sharply rimmed by a ring of jet black eyelashes. I looked into his eyes and found myself lost in a sea of brilliant green. His gaze, though friendly, was very penetrating. For a split second, I turned into a hormonal teenager and believed I was madly in love with this stranger, that in another life, I knew him, danced with him, had a magical 'story' with him.


Until he opened his mouth and informed me that we did in fact meet before… a few years ago, on a plane!!

I could not even concentrate at the meeting, not after remembering the way I had recklessly flirted with him on that damn plane ride.