The wind that night was particularly biting. Like a surgical blade it seemed to cut through his turtle-neck. It felt as if the cold had settled just underneath his skin. On retrospect, he thought, perhaps it might have been wiser to put on that second t-shirt.

He rounded the corner and then he could see her, and she could see him, and she flashed him that smile that always cost him about a half a second of his immediate short term memory. It was memory he would happily sacrifice for the rest of his life, and find it a bargain, and then some.

There was something about that smile. He didn’t know what it was, and didn’t particularly want to find out. As far as he was concerned mysteries were best left as such. But each time he saw it, it was like looking at a beautiful sunset. At the end of the day it is still the sun setting, but there is always a subtle difference that makes today’s as beautiful as yesterdays.

He had detached himself from the reality of that moment for all of 14 days but the reality came upon him suddenly, the way the shadow of a cloud swarms over a hill. And just as suddenly those arms, covered by a red cashmere sweater were around his neck.

Suddenly there was a lump in his throat that could not be swallowed.

He was not sure when he would see that smile again, or feel those arms again, or smell that lovely medley of scent that is the blend of Cerruti 1881, cocoa butter and aloe vera lip balm. He was not sure when he could hear that voice without the unwelcome distortion of Ma Bell. He was not sure when he could secretly enjoy the look of impatient concentration as she decided which shoes to wear. He was not sure when he would hold those hands again.

And there was a crackle over the airport public address system, and the announcement for boarding.

It took physical effort for him to release her. For a few seconds the bustle of the other passengers completely disappeared and it was just the two of them lost in each other’s eyes — and then she had to go and he watched her join the queue for the airport security.

Outside the building, he walked past the glass walls and waited for her to pass through the checks.

And then they were facing each other. With a wall of glass between them.

He desperately wanted to feel her fingers in his again and reached out both hands but the glass walls! They did not care what was trying to get through. They kept everything out. His fingers and palms met the cold unfeeling glass and stopped. Her hands tried as well to get through but the glass walls again stopped them.

And so they stood … hands splayed on the glass, trying to reach out to each other. That lump in his throat seemed to grow by the second. He could not believe just how much he was going to miss her. And finally the cold glass seemed to sympathize with them, and he could see in her eyes that he didn’t need to tell her. She knew.

And then she was gone.

And he stood there for a long, weary minute before walking away.

So if you are at JKIA, Unit One and see four hand prints and two lip marks on both sides of the glass that have almost but not quite overlapped, say a little prayer and remember the power of goodbye…

AOB

Apparently you guys think that this little corner of the Internet is good enough to be considered Kenyan Blog of the Year.

I’m not one for long winded speeches, and so from the very bottom of my heart wish to thank all those lovely people who have been encouraging me from the very beginning and keeping my on my toes.

Like I’ve said before, this blog is not me. It’s you guys.

So thank you. Each and every one of you.

A very special thanks to my main man Rip who set up the domain and does the hosting. Dude, you rock.

Extreme – More Than Words