Sunday, November 13, 2016


The flight from Prague to Geneva was short. 

Because I'm slightly claustrophobic, my middle seat assignment left me a ill-at-ease. 

A woman about my age plunked herself down penning me in.

The hostess dropped off a goodie and she handed me hers before we spoke a word.

Not sure of the language I said, "Merci, danke, thank you, děkuji, shukran."

Her face lit up. "Shukran? You speak Arabic?" She asked in French,

"Only a few words: mahaba, chai, shurkran, awfwan, key fac, (spelling is a guess) and I wouldn't understand the answer. Hibibbi and I know I have to be selective on whom I say that to."

She laughed. 

We talked for the rest of the flight which seemed to last only a few minutes. 

She had been born in Egypt with a French mother. She had lived in Lebanon, escaping the war for France and Czech where she also lived for years.  Like mine, her first husband was a disaster her second great except for his news addition. We talked about our kids.

The plane landed.

We didn't just say good bye. We hugged.

I hadn't felt penned in at all. Serendipity!

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