Lucky and Unlucky in Love

Excerpt:

Walter looks along the aisle at the remaining folks coming in. The flight attendants are helping direct traffic while the captain stands imperiously in front of the open cockpit door. His attention is drawn to an embarking passenger and a moment later, she comes into view.

Walter is good at his job, and one of his skills is profiling people based on first impressions. It enables him to steer through small talk, party talk, and business talk, depending on the circumstance. It usually only takes a glance and a thoughtful consideration of observed physical traits. With nothing else to do before the plane takes off, Walter watches the woman make her way up the aisle. 

Her hair is light brown, not blonde exactly, but somewhere on the border. It spills on her shoulders but part of it appears to be pulled back, away from her face. Two colors streak her hair: red on the left and blue on the right. Silver earrings dangle and sparkle. Her face exudes a happiness that borders on something else he can’t quite name. Her short-sleeved maroon dress is long, down to mid-shin, and it ebbs and flows as she moves and walks. A purse hangs from a leather strap slung across her chest, bisecting her breasts in a way that shows them off in a very flattering way. She’s wearing leather sandals with multiple straps that simultaneously keep her feet in place and show off quite a lot of skin. Her toes are painted different colors and it takes Walter a minute before he recognizes the pattern. The red on her left foot matches the red on the right side of her hair. The opposite is true for the blue. The colors of her fingernails per hand match her toes. Her lipstick is a muted, near brick red.

The closer she gets, the more Walter can see her face. She’s wearing mascara and her lashes are large and painted in a way that showcases her hazel eyes. Those eyes are spellbinding. Both ears have three piercings. Freckles dot her cheeks, and her brow is furrowed in a crease. 

If Walter has to choose a word to describe this woman, he might go with hippie. Or earthy. Or stunningly attractive. 

Then he catches her aroma. It’s a pleasant scent, maybe a mixture of perfume and lotion or hairspray. As the bouquet enters his nose and luxuriates, he finds himself intoxicated. He starts subtly breathing in deeper, wanting the mixture to permeate his entire nasal cavity. He even opens his mouth, thinking he might be able to taste the smell.

When her purse slams into his arm, the spell is broken. He looks up. As she stows her backpack in the overhead bin directly across the aisle from him, she is totally ignorant that her purse hit him. Not that he’s minding. Her butt is mere inches from his face. He faces forward, staring at the seat back, trying desperately not to let his eyes bug out.

“Kind of makes you want to reach out and pinch it,” the old man says. Walter gives the man a horrified look but he gets a wink in return. “Smells nice, too.” The old man turns away and starts looking out the window.

The woman sits in the aisle seat across from Walter. Part of the dress’s hem slides up her leg. It’s tanned and muscular. 

Up close, he now sees the leather and beaded bracelets on her right wrist. A silver ring with infinity symbols is on her right hand. She wears a watch on her left. The band of the watch partially hides a tattoo with a cursive script. He sees “Memento” but can’t read the rest. He pulls out his phone and does a search for that word. The top hit is “memento mori,” meaning “Remember you must die.” 

The definition shocks Walter. He frowns, embarrassed by his first reaction. Who would want to remember they’re going to die? Then he clicks the link and begins to read about the phrase and the meaning. It’s a Stoic philosophy of living intentionally with a sense of urgency while overcoming fear because life is finite and everyone will die. 

The combination of seeing this woman, smelling her, and then reading about memento mori triggers a memory…