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The Flight of the Phoenix
There are days where the still air of the night bear witness to the day's flashbacks. Her face glowing in the darkness when I close my eyes. Like a beacon, strong, radiating, but never blinding. Like a broken record that repeats itself, it is always the same scene, the same smile, the same touch, the same smell. It is a wonder really, as I do not know her well enough. We would talk for hours over matters. From the trivial, right down to the surreal. Her warm controlled giggles, eventually bursting into hearty laughter as she got comfortable. It is a nice feeling really. To be in the company of someone who enjoys being with you, and allowing their minds to be tinkered and teased. Like a game of tennis, we bounced ideas back and forth and many a times lost countless hours due to reasons unknown. Ever the inquisitive individual, everything fascinates. How wonderful curious minds are. Their minds do not stop working, they keep thinking, and processes run non-stop. Sometimes she'd try to read body languages and s
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