I was returning from a 2-week snowboarding trip from Hakuba, Japan, and jumping between trains and buses and back to trains again made for a long and tiring journey to the airport. To make matters worse, a nasty winter storm rolled in, delaying my flight back to the U.S. Stuck at the airport for a few hours.
I went to a bar nearby to get a drink. The place was empty. Bored, I found myself slumped at the seat watching a random Japanese TV shows. I dozed off into sleep, and that’s when I saw her walking into the room.
It was electric.
She had a sculpted Amazonian figure which sat well with her twine-thin body. Her decanter shaped waist tapered down to compliment her long impeccable legs — a pair of arched eyebrows with sweeping eyelashes contrasted with her soft and burnished complexion. With deep blue eyes that glittered like stars and constellations, she glanced my way, and our eyes locked.
A master sculptor couldn’t have sculpted a better ears and fairy’s nose. When she smiled, a set of dazzling, arctic-white teeth gleamed and lit up the bar. I felt my chest tighten as a jolt of electricity hit me from seeing that smile. Her hair was ochre-black, and it plunged around her photogenic face that hid a swan’s neck.
She moved on about in the room with smooth elegance and brimming with a sweet perfume of captivating aroma, redolent of spring meadows filled with blooming lavender. I was taken aback by her demure and timorous personality that showed through for the short time we interacted.
How could someone be so beautiful and be so friendly and approachable at the same time?
She had a melodious voice sweeter than the sweetest songbird.
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We talked about the smallest and smallest of things. I felt like I could to her about anything, and in my mind, I was thrown into a fleeting daydream. My universe was on a downward spiral through the vortex of serendipity! I have met the woman of my dreams, and fate has conspired to bring us together. Our destiny is intertwined. We are to be on the same flight, seated next to each other!
How crazy is that?!?
We were on the way to get seated on the plane, and that’s when I noticed my feet sweating. I’ve been walking and running around for almost 30 hours catching trains and buses non-stop from Hakuba to the Airport.
I’ve also been snowboarding back to back, trying to maximize my snowboarding trip, so I probably neglected to do some laundry.
I was also wearing a pair of thick and heavy winter snowboarding socks that insulated a lot of heat.
My feet were sore, tired from the long day of walking around. It was hot and sweaty. And I couldn’t wait to get to my seat and take my shoes off for relief. After we got seated, I stealthily maneuvered to take my shoes off. That’s when the fumes of death hit. I thought it was just a light summer breeze, but instead, I unleashed a category five hurricane.
The smell was so potent I thought it was going to make me puke out the fish sandwich I ate three days ago at the resort. It was so sickening I couldn’t help but incur a gag reflex.
The fetid and decaying scent choked the air around me. The rancid socks have been fermenting so long to the point where the expanding gasses could not be contained anymore.
I scrambled to put my shoes back on, but it was too late. I turned to my left and locked eyes with my beautiful angel once more. She grimaced at the exposure of the horrid scent that was so thick and cloying; it added 20 years to her youthful face.
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The glitter on her face that was once there disappeared. Gone. Like a dull whimper of a lifeless star that exploded into a supernova long ago with its ashes scattered throughout the universe. Her face turned pale as snow.
No words can ever express the grief and sorrow that has befallen me at that moment as I stood there in shock. I wanted to be out of there. Anywhere. Cowering into whatever oblivion that finds me.
I started singing songs in my head.
“If I could turn back time.” I’d give it all to you? I’d take back those scents that’ll hurt you?
Fuck, is it too late to say sorry?!? Maybe sing a Justin Beiber song to lighten up the situation?
”Is it too late now to say sorry?”
Just anything to alleviate the situation and make her understand.
I felt a new high of embarrassment as the toxic scent permeated more into her clothes and everything else around her, causing her to grimace like she’s an extra from The Walking Dead. I rushed to the bathroom to wash my putrid socks and throw whatever chemicals I could find at it.
But to no avail.
With my head and shoulders slumped down, I walked back, avoided all eye contact with anything breathing nearby, and sat down on my seat defeated.
That was the most awkward and silent 12-hour plane ride of my life.
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