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Its another random part of my story..not publishing-thanks

I threw out my barely-eaten sandwich at the next trach can I saw, not in the mood to eat. The airport looks so large from outside, but now that I was walking from on half to the other, it didn’t seem so large. Maybe it was the hundreds, thousands of people who were there, sitting, standing, most of them looking tired and confused. Anyhow, I was now half way through with five minutes left to spare. If I pick up the pace, I’ll get there just in time.

Which, to my dismay, was an overstatment. I hardly got there just as they were making the final calls for boarding the plane, so I ended up having to excuse myself multiple times for bumping into numerous people on my way to a seat between one business-looking woman with a crisp work-suit on coupled with her golden hair tied back neatly in a bun, and a man who couldn’t have been over 25, if even that.

He had a pair of headphones in, with his head back and eyes closed. To most people, his appearance would have made him edge toward the un-approachable side of society, but I had seen too many different people in my lifetime to even care what they were wearing, or what their current hair color was.

His was a dark brown shade, nearly black, and it fell in a mess against his forehead, lightly sweeping his eyebrows. It was curly, but not in a disorganized way that a homeless person might have. It suited his face.

His blue-jeaned legs were tapping up and down, presumably to the beat of whatever he was listening to in those headphones. Most of his arms were bare, but his upper shoulders were covered with the short sleeves of his black AC/DC shirt.

I made my way over to my seat, but accidentally bumped him while trying to slide past his legs. This caused him to jump which lead to the falling out of his earbud headphones, and his ice-blue shocked eyes looked up at me.

‘Oh, jeez, sorry about that. I didn’t know anyone was going to be sitting there, so I kind of…sorry.’ He gave me a sheepish smile as a slight hint of pink rose to the tips of his ears.

‘N-no, that’s fine, it’s my f-fault.’ I cursed myself internally for stammering, but I couldn’t get past his eyes. They were, in fact, the color of pure arctic ice, frozen yet also warm. I’ve seen plenty of eye colors, everything from black to contact-shades of red and purple, but no pair of contacts could ever be that color. Almost white, they were so blue.

I looked down at the duffel in my hands, one that would most certainly not be pleasant to have sitting in my lap the entire way.

I gave him an apologetic smile and started scooting outwards again to put in it the overhead carrying shelf, but he beat me to it.

‘Allow me,’ he said, then easily slid it into the available space. I was grateful, because I knew that I would be standing in the isle looking like an idiot, jumping up and down, trying to shove it in. My height, if you haven’t guessed, isn’t as tall as others.

I sat down, as did he, and I thought that he was going to put his earbuds back in and I would have to suffer through a severly long flight listening to Business Woman tap on her laptop. But I was surprised when he stuck out his hand and introduced himself with ‘I’m Daniel. Coming from England, going to Colorado.’ I was surprised to hear that both our coming-froms and going-tos were the same, and I wondered what part of England he was coming from, and what part of Colorado he was traveling to.

‘Really? So am I. Coming from England, going to Colorado.’ Again, I cursed myself in my head. I didn’t even know this ‘Daniel’. He could be a serial rapist or something, fleeing police. Not that this scared me, considering that I could kill him before he even made so much as a threat to me, but still. His eyes, though…they were warm, trusting eyes. I couldn’t help but talk to him.

‘Interesting, interesting…what part of England?’

‘Cheshire,’ I say, and I feel my heart drop. I was already homesick of my small little apartment that I lived before coming to live with my friend Tanya, who lives in Rye Colorado. It will take forever getting used to Colorado, even if I’d lived there previously. Every place I go to, even if I’d been there before, always feels different. I’ve seen New York in 100 years past, and I’ve seen it 10 years ago. Every minute it changes, whether it’s the person walking by on the street or the digital sign on a billboard. Changing endlessly.

I snap back into reality, and realize that Daniel is speaking to me.

‘Pardon?’ I say, feeling rude for having tuned out.

‘I was in a University around the Chesire area, but unfortunately they didn’t approve of my…how shall I say, ’social drinking’?’ I never would have guessed from that he was a party-boy, he just didn’t seem the type.

Suddenly, I felt so small next to him. Even being alive as long as I had, I had never so much as gotten drunk or even been to a bar. I was guessing that he had also ‘gotten around’, whereas I’ve never so much as been to second base. Barely even first. As you might have noticed, I’m not a particularily social butterfly. More a wallflower.

Well, mold, is more like it.

I liked it, unlike some of the stories I’ve seen on Y Q&A, I actually kept reading. Shockingly.

First of all, the 1st sentence, ‘I threw out my barely-eaten sandwich at the next trach can I saw, not in the mood to eat.’

I think you mean trash can, that was probably a typo though. And try something like this, ‘I tossed my barely-eaten sandwich into a trash can, the prospect of travelling in an airplane had spoiled my appetite.’

That way your reader will catch on that you’re about to ride a plane…that’s just my opinion, you don’t have to take my advice of course.

There are a couple of errors but nothing that bothered me too much. I enjoyed your story…since you’re not gonna publish it, why don’t you post it online? That way I can read it ^_^ I’d love to read more of this story.

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