In the Air by Catherine Thomas I was running late and I was tired. The quarterly business review had been particularly tense and had gone largely over time. I was annoyed that I had not had the time for a shower at the airport lounge before hopping onto this long haul to London. I hardly glanced at the woman who came and sat next to me in the plane. I wasn’t in the mood for conversation and even the affable steward with his plastic smile and plethora of drinks, nibbles and hot towels was starting to get on my nerves. I didn’t even feel sorry for him when nobody bothered pretending to pay attention to his safety demonstration. Soon enough however, the hum of the engine, the dimmed lights and the slight over-heating of the cabin started to dull me into a strange state of relaxation. I was entering the best part of the trip, when after take-off and a quick meal, you get settled into a comfortable non-existence in this parallel dimension that is the sky. Neither here nor there, life holds its course and allows you a brief time of calm meditation. My seat neighbour, however, did not seem to enjoy the same bliss. She had already taken out her laptop and was busily typing away on a surprisingly silent keyboard. She had a number of books and hand-written papers scattered on her knees, on the arm rest and around her computer on the tiny fold-up table. I noticed her perfume, or was it her day cream? It was very sweet, but light at the same time. I felt oddly attracted to that smell and started observing her from the corner of my eye. I had to admit a slight disappointment that she did not seem very attractive. But her scent was still floating around, and I found myself adjusting my seat position to capture it better. My curiosity was teased. I tried to take a peek at her screen, to no avail.
I fancied her as a writer, a poet maybe, leading a fascinating life, from
book launch parties to literary salons in New-York, From daydreaming to interrupted sleep, from sleep to waking boredom, I focused my attention on my mysterious writer again who had now interrupted her typing and was sitting so still that I thought for a moment she was asleep, but I noticed her eye-lashes bat. Their tiny movement seemed to waft small puffs of her delicious smell. Was it my imagination or was her breath slightly too quick, her cheek a bit flushed? I realised I still had not really seen her face, only her profile, but it was better that way. What I really wanted was to read the screen, to penetrate her secret. At last she got up for the trip to the bathroom that I had awaited with growing impatience. Heart pounding like a child who knows he is doing something wrong, I lunged across her chair. My head and ears felt hot as I started reading at random, almost in a panic, and caught glimpses of words such as orgasm, body, electricity, dance. She must be an erotic writer! The idea that she had been writing sexual scenes next to me during the past few hours was exciting and disturbing at the same time. Before I had managed to gather my thoughts and read the page in an orderly fashion, I heard an amused voice above my head. ‘Fascinating, isn’t it?’ I jumped, sat up and starting mumbling some pathetic excuses that she immediately interrupted with a laugh. ‘These trips are long, aren’t they? What your neighbour does always seem so much more fascinating than your own boredom.’ I looked at her and for the first time, I really saw her face. She was much younger than I had thought. She certainly wasn’t beautiful, but she had piercing blue eyes that did not blink when she spoke to you. ‘What are you writing about?’ I heard myself say. ‘I am a researcher. I study gastropods – snails. I am writing the script for a nature magazine, but it’s too difficult to work in these conditions.’ She pointed at the small table and the books, most of which had fallen on the floor. ‘I think that I am going to sleep. Here, if you want to read it, feel free. I haven’t written much yet, but it might amuse you. It’s about snails having sex. Did you know that snails have both a penis and a vagina? Imagine what they can do!’ She handed me her laptop with a wink. I had hardly recovered from my utter surprise and embarrassment before she had already put on her eye mask and reclined her seat, ignoring the world. I stared at the laptop for a few minutes, tempted but hesitant, and finally decided to give the awkward reading a miss. I drew a blanket over my body and lowered my seat back. As I sank into a sleepy fantasy, a warm hand landed softly on my thigh.! |