The smell

 

I notice you on the plain as you board. Normally due to my low salary passengers do not make me care.

 

Your long bright hair - your trim figure. I long to talk to you, but do not dare.

 

I check the passenger list. You are Danish and I am Dutch. It would not go. Our yellow servicemen had failed and 7000 people are dead. Your country removed our cover-up story and forever a relationship would be impossible.

 

I hate your like. My betraying body and my lust for you makes me hate myself. It is for me not acceptable.

 

It seems that your girlfriend are more than just a friend. Your kisses and laughing makes it seems that we have a married couple to take care about.

 

It is contemptuous to illustrate such an unnatural relationship in the open. The sun you let shine on my vanished behind that cloud.

 

You order wine and yet more wine. Of course as a Dane you take can handle the booze. You only end up getting sleepy.

 

You take your blindfolds on. I have my chance to get happy.

 

I am closing in on you. How I want to squeeze those firm oranges.

 

Both you and your girlfriend are sleeping heavily. Before I decide to make my move I hope the situation do not bring any changes.

 

My job is to adjust the chairs. I bent my body in over you. My lips are 10 centimeters from your. How I would like to take this kiss.

 

Then I smell you. The time seems to stop. The scent of roses reaches my noose. I fantasy my hands going over your entire body. I can feel every breath you take. You should not have made your shirt stay to open. I move closer. I have all the time in the world. How peaceful – no stress.

 

WHACK!!

 

You suddenly woke and your hand flew up. You looked shocked by your own reaction. You put up your hand in order to sign an apology.

 

I do not care. I want rehabilitation. You have stopped my dream by your intend to start a battery.

 

If you were my wife I would have you’re behind smacked.

 

I contact the pilot in order to arrange for a reception committee, when we land. He also thinks that such a conduct characterizes a brat. I knew I would be backed.

 

When the police arrived, you still have the blindfolds on.

 

They yank you up without warning. You and your girlfriend are caught by surprised. You shout in your funny language and it upsets the police. A 250-pound officer forces your 110-pound body to the ground and cuffed you on your back. The skin is torn on one of your wrists. They pull you up and carry you. Then you are gone.

 

Yesterday I bought the newspaper. I got you. They had made you pay. Not by prison but by ordering you to correct being bad-tempered crackpot.

 

The shameful sentence would prevent you from ever been being taken serious. The sweetness of revenge fills my mind. I could never have planned such a plot.

 

I hope you one day would travel in my plane once more. When I approach you I know you would be stiff from fear. I would take my kiss. Squeeze your oranges. You will forever become a property to me.

 

Both you and me would never forget our night together on six - four - three.

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The naughty flight attendant