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fleshy
hands rest in her lap. The stiffness of the armrest clashes with
the softness of her arms. Her arms also yield to gravity. She is
wearing a tight sleeveless blouse and James can see the exact shape
of her breasts. They are large, and seem heavy, but they are held
high in the pockets of her bra. His eyes surf over her left shoulder
and breast and land in her armpit, the one closest to him. He notices
the white flakes of deodorant staining her blouse. As she adjusts
her body in the tight seat, James gains a glimpse at the jungle
of hair hidden in the warm territory of her armpit. And now, as
she is once again motionless, he can view the few black hairs that
have escaped her arm lock. All the sounds around him become mute.
He only hears the subtle sound of her magical chemical dancing
around him in rings. He wishes he could hold a box up to her and
capture some of her substance within it. But he finds himself frozen
once again. James falls into a deep sleep of comfort. He will not
question his journey to Italy for the remainder of the flight.
James
awakens to the touch of God. The celestial woman is tapping him
gently on the shoulder, urging him to wake up since the food cart
has reached their seat. Before he opens his eyes, a wide smile
emerges on his face. The blossoming of his mouth urges his eyes
to open. He examines the interior of the plane with his sleep blurred
vision. It all seems so beautiful to him: the long and narrow aisle
to his left, leading to a soft velvet curtain blocking his eyes
from entering first class, the purple florescent light bathing
the interior, the large screen in the center flashing images of
a tropical travel destination. He replies to the flight attendant’s
question and receives a nourishing meal of beef stew. He lets the
warm fumes of beef moisten his face. And in his dream like state,
where the world is so soft, a conversation emerges between him
and his magical neighboress. He is barely conscious of their words.
He is mostly aware of her smell, of her smiles. Their conversation
consists of gestures and nuances, although to a side observer it
might appear like an ordinary |
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