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September 6, 2010
He could be a stranger there in front of me, silent, headphones in place, shaggy-haired, close beard and quiet green eyes. I wonder if I would have taken special notice of him as I passed in the aisle. I wonder if I would have wished my ticket, stuffed hastily into a copy of The Red Queen, read 16B.

I wonder if there have been other hims on other planes in other seats that happened to be in front of or behind me, rather than next to me; Fate, playing mind games, placing my lover just one wrong seat number away.