It hit me like someone kicked on my balls, I was speechless for some time, Anjali was asking me what happened. After few min, I put the luggage on top...again. The compartment was private, with curtains; we had two old aged couple below and next to us. We both got up and settled down. She put a bag between us, she was on window side. We were lying and facing each other, I could see little of her cleavage. We spoke almost an hr, due to sleeping one side I tried to shift my position, and gave. But she was pure Parisian. Though, of course, her English was impeccable.“Did you marry a New Yorker, too?” Joe asked her after exchanging hellos.“Nope. You asking?” she quipped back.“Already taken, I’m afraid.”“Too bad. Mind signing those books?” she asked. Joe had pulled out his first publication. The trip poem. The most expensive as it turned out.“You recognized me.”“Of course. You read and signed here.”“I did. Years ago.”“I had a bit of a crush.”“Thanks. Sure. I might buy one. You have my. More

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