I guessed early twenties, dressed for summer in no mean way and the Bingo prize was two very short, flared, one white, one pale pink micro mini skirts...over stunning tanned bare pins. Swiftly I sauntered in behind them, not attracting their attention, they were so wrapped up tales of their recent holiday and as the queue moved on they were telling the burger seller all about it. I had oodles of lush time, which was not an easy ride as they were so animated and excited they skittered about on. It all boiled down to what positions I could picture them in.No one inspired great stories in me though, apart from the gentle wondering. I figured my mind was just too tired from work to grasp on to anyone like normal.My sleepy mind turned instead to the man I sat by on the plane last week. I’d been weaving a story about him that twisted and turned in my brain from the moment he sat by me. His careful, upper crust accent, his slightly wrinkled business attire, his frequent calls before we even. More

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