At the point when Terry went into the room, no one saw him, not even me. He attempted to get a traction in the discussion, excessively tranquil, too dull to even consider drawing consideration.
At the point when somebody at last made presentations, most of us gazed as though we were within the sight of a mysterious big name. Goodness. This thin, unassuming person set up the occasion.
As the discussion progressed, Terry picked his words cautiously, once in a while discussed himself, yet slowly pulled in people into his circle until it's anything but a group.
Exactly when it seemed like his legendary daze over us wound down, he'd praise somebody on their utilization of an odd jargon word or their insight into Peruvian eateries in Denver. We as a whole thought that it was entertaining, in any event, beguiling.
As some of the participants talked about their skills, experience, and background, he'd match them up with other folks or offer introductions, further winning charm points.
By the time the event ended, a crowd of folks encircled him like they were aides to the President of the United States.
A week later, Terry invited me into his office to chat about my knowledge of the mortgage business. As we talked, he nudged me into bragging about my wins, stoking a feeling of pride. And then he asked how he could help me.
"I could use some help with sales," I said.
Two weeks later, I hired him to mentor me.
Terry wasn't particularly outgoing, funny, or quick-witted, but he had mastered several skills that made him one of the most charming people I'd ever known.
For some social savants, charm comes by way of their DNA. They can strike up conversations at will, deliver funny jokes at just the right time, or entertain merely by speaking their mind.
...He approached me and firmly grabbed my wrist, pulling me towards one of the cabins.
In a rather brutal manner, he pushed me inside, blocking the door behind him. He leaned his hand against the wall, right next to my face...
- I asked you something. What do you think about it? - His behavior deeply embarrassed me. Indecent thoughts started swirling in my head... Me... He... In this confined space... With other people, women, and men on the other side of the door, completely unaware...
- We're alone. There's no one else with us. You can answer me honestly now...
- They're... out there... and they can probably hear every word we say. Besides, what am I supposed to judge when you're not wearing any clothes?
- Shhh! - He placed his finger on my lips...
- You wouldn't want someone to hear you, right? - The guy closed the distance between us, pressing his whole body against mine...
- Unless... you like it? Tell me, Nunu, do you like being loud? Do you enjoy it when others can hear? - He placed his hands on my chest and started unbuttoning my shirt with one hand...
🌈
- Hia... Look! - I exclaimed cheerfully, pointing my finger at the sky.
- NuNew... You are the eighth color of the rainbow to me. - P' said suddenly.
- The eighth colour, what does that mean?
- Just... mine.
- "The light looks so beautiful in the phase of dispersion..."
- What?
- Ah... Valeriu Butulescu described the rainbow phenomenon that way. I believe his words have a hidden meaning.
- What do you mean by that? Sorry, Nhu, but you're the last person I know who would want to analyze some poet's profound thoughts.
- Yeah, that's true, poetry isn't really my thing...
🌦
It was late at night, the rain was pouring, and a cold wind was roaring.
The echo of doors slamming filled the street...
With a backpack on his back, wearing a black hood pulled over his head,
a boy with hair as black as coal
walked through the Bangkok street in a direction known only to his soul...