“Isn’t she tall?” Lakhishree nudged her granddaughter at the airport.
Towering over the crowd, she was a kaleidoscope of colors. Blue jeans, red shoes and a multicolored woolen cap complete with a green pompom jammed over her shoulder length dark blonde hair. Any color missing from the ensemble was taken care of in the muffler draped around her neck. At the counter she fiddled with her unruly hair. Armed with the boarding pass, she turned.
Gia giggled. “She’s a he!”
Obviously a foreigner, he sported a day’s stubble and a toothbrush mustache.
They ran into him again at the coffee shop.
“He’s cute.” Gia said.
“Shush! He’ll hear you.” Lakhishree looked at him critically. “Looks like an out and out junkie.” She spoke in Bengali. “Stay away from him.”
“What!” Gia was flabbergasted. “I was just looking.”
“Well don’t. Who knows…?”
“Come, let’s go.” Lakhishree hustled Gia.
“Excuse me Madam,” it was the cute junkie, “you dropped your boarding card.”
Mumbling ‘thanks,’ Lakhishree snatched it.
Gia smiled at him.
“Hello.” He smiled back. “I have to confess,” He coughed, “I am a coffee addict.”
With a wink, he loped off.
His Bengali was only slightly accented.
Thanks for reading – any comments?