Staring off to some far-off place, he stood in the terminal as if rooted to the spot.
His mind was racing, recalling, remembering...
They met where "vixens" once met, a chat room. Their dance was first one of the mind. They wrote togther. One then the other. The little impulses of electricity sparkling, challenging, intwining and finally enveloping each other. The computer line was augmented by the phone line and the electricity became more palpable. And then, not far from where he stood, she walked towards him for the first time.
He had never met anyone like her. His world had been one of meetings, memoranda and law. She was a shaken bottle of Dom Perignon. As she walked... no, not walked... as she strode, there was more than a bit of that electricity in her presence.
They walked off together, talking, laughing... starting something transcendent. He was stoic but she knew he was crumbling before her beauty.
They spent all day together for several days. He showed her the sites of the city. She crept closer to his heart.
He took her to a favorite place, a restaurant above the city where one could see the lights far below. The piano played softly in the background. He took her from the table and she swept onto the dance floor. For a moment, a light above her illuminated her hair, giving it brilliance which commanded all to stop and look at her. The black gown clung to her svelte figure as he took her in his arms, swaying slightly to the music. They held each closer, knowing that this was a moment when lives changed. She moved her head from his shoulder and her eyes locked onto his. The music ended. Their lips found each other.
She broke down the last reserve of his being. He loved her and she knew it.
They stopped for a moment at the table and then departed. They would begin to explore what their minds and hearts had uncovered.
He stood and looked down at his watch. He suddenly realized that his eyes were moist. Brusqely, he rubbed his eyes. I must be getting tired, he thought.
Her plane was just a half hour away.
His mind was racing, recalling, remembering...
They met where "vixens" once met, a chat room. Their dance was first one of the mind. They wrote togther. One then the other. The little impulses of electricity sparkling, challenging, intwining and finally enveloping each other. The computer line was augmented by the phone line and the electricity became more palpable. And then, not far from where he stood, she walked towards him for the first time.
He had never met anyone like her. His world had been one of meetings, memoranda and law. She was a shaken bottle of Dom Perignon. As she walked... no, not walked... as she strode, there was more than a bit of that electricity in her presence.
They walked off together, talking, laughing... starting something transcendent. He was stoic but she knew he was crumbling before her beauty.
They spent all day together for several days. He showed her the sites of the city. She crept closer to his heart.
He took her to a favorite place, a restaurant above the city where one could see the lights far below. The piano played softly in the background. He took her from the table and she swept onto the dance floor. For a moment, a light above her illuminated her hair, giving it brilliance which commanded all to stop and look at her. The black gown clung to her svelte figure as he took her in his arms, swaying slightly to the music. They held each closer, knowing that this was a moment when lives changed. She moved her head from his shoulder and her eyes locked onto his. The music ended. Their lips found each other.
She broke down the last reserve of his being. He loved her and she knew it.
They stopped for a moment at the table and then departed. They would begin to explore what their minds and hearts had uncovered.
He stood and looked down at his watch. He suddenly realized that his eyes were moist. Brusqely, he rubbed his eyes. I must be getting tired, he thought.
Her plane was just a half hour away.
