A plane as they would now call it but I would remember the time on it differently. London—a place of beauty and history, and from the city of New York, a college boy on a trip with his class found himself at a loss for words. With clouds illuminated by the city lights he was graced with a magnificent smile, a laugh made with pure joy. In a way, you would assume the laugh and smile to be from the boy with the way the sentence was written. In a way that may be true but the smile and that laugh weren’t with connection with the clouds and beautiful city lights below him but those around him.
“Irony at that its finest” as he would phrase it, music timed perfectly in time with the words he thinks and ideas that pass through his head. He was never the most social kid; finding the words to be hard when spoken through lips. He always liked the method of actions being louder than words.
Her head pinning his shoulder in an uncomfortable position but he offers no words of argument. Reading his writing from over his shoulder without hesitation. Her mind clouded in tiredness while he constantly found himself looking at her face in wonder.
“The view is beautiful.” He would comment.
“Yea it is.” As if reading from a classic romance script.
‘The beautiful view isn’t outside the window but in your mirror.’ He would think unnerved to speak these words.
He was at loss when looking upon her sleeping face and with hesitant fingers he types, ‘What is art when compared to your beauty? What is the brightness of the sun when looking at your smile? What is Aphrodite (Greek God of love and believed to be the most beautiful.) when compared to you? I open a window to see nothing in the night but as I look back into the computer lit before our seats, I pause in bated breath. Your beauty is magnified under the blue light and my face is left in wonder and confusion on how such beauty came to exist.’
“The plane is going to land.“
“It’s going to crash.“
To view who was right in this nonsensical argument, fate can only tell. To him a crash would be the greatest symbol of romance. A man who has searched 19 years for romance loses his life upon finding it and with the current shaking of the plane he doesn’t find himself to be wrong.
While she views this whole interaction as to be nothing more than friendship, he keeps himself painfully content with such a fate.
“Give it a week and by the time we land back in the US, we won’t talk in person again.“