The ride, as I predicted, was hell. The man with the window seat in my aisle, thought it his duty to have Taco Bells major special before the eight hours we had to spend next to each other. So of course, he had the duty to get up eight times throughout this flight to well, let out his duty. So getting of the plane made airports feel like one of life's many (or few depending on how much your life sucks) gifts. Looking at the variety of people around I noticed one man in particular who struck me as a character whom you only get the opportunity to met once or twice or none at all in your life. He was around the age of fifty and he was by far the most interesting man I have ever seen. Everything about him was extraordinary. He wore a brown tweed jacket with a crimson red polo underneath. He wore the same tweed pants and brown leather shoes. In his right hand was a briefcase with a ribbon tied to the handle. A beautiful silk purple ribbon. Then I caught his eye. They were pools of sadness and loneliness but the brightest blue that possibly exists has not had the pleasure of meeting this particular blue. They held my gaze for what felt like eternity. Then he started to pace over to me. As he was walking, I noticed his eyes scanning me, not in a judgmental way but as if he were looking for something. Half way to me, he seemed to change his mind and immediately turned around and evaporated and it was as if he was never there. So that just happened, I thought to myself. Actually nothing happened, I just made eye contact with a particularly intresting fellow, nothing special. Yet, all throughout the taxi drive, I could not forget those eyes that looked as if they read my soul and left their mark.
YOU ARE READING
The American
General FictionGriffon Smith was born and raised in Washington D.C. He worked at a Jiffy Lube throughout his high school career at Greenvile Washington D.C. High School and has a small box turtle that has accompanied him through his small array of adventures since...
