Mr Kron fitted well in the buzzing community of happy passengers; we would never find a common ground. Yet, we had three more hours to spend together, including a dinner just the two of us. I could skip dinner altogether; still, this man would be eating next to me. We were isolated from the others. I was his companion and he was to blame for putting us in this position without asking. I began falling naturally into panic when Mr Kron said ‘What is your destination?’ My destination? This was getting out of hand. I would not discuss my destination with a total stranger, an intruder to my peace, a rude dangerous man. ‘Amsterdam’ I said quietly. ‘So close, you’re lucky. I have to change flight in Amsterdam to get home to New York; got seven hours waiting. I hope I’ll find an interesting book to buy out there, in English’ he said with a little laugh. I nodded without sound. I had read many books in airplanes and airports; once or twice I almost missed my flight because of a book. That, in other times of course. So, Mr Kron was still alive; he could still read books and even find them interesting. How old was he anyway? I turned to him unconsciously following this thought. He met my look simply without reserve then turned back to his tablet; he was playing games all this time while talking to me. Irritated I looked straight to his face; he was young, hardly in his twenties. He looked back at me and said ‘I was on Syros island for an animation festival, pretty cool’. You could trace no uncertainty in his voice; so mature for such a young face. ‘I met a girl from Sweden and, you know, I see myself coming back to Europe soon’. His face was shining of nice fresh memories, all content, all happy. I kept staring for a second then sunk to the back of my brain where the memory of my last love was hanging. It was neither painful nor pleasant; it was nothing. We were served dinner last of all passengers while flying over the Alpes with the usual shakes of this point of the flight. He laughed with the dancing trays; I looked at the shaking glass in my hand and let a soft sigh. Youth flashed in me for a second; then dispersed again leaving a hazy murmur. You’re gonna fall from a great height like everybody else. ‘Cheers Kron’.
artB 