14 november

She imagined herself streaming through the great halls, diverting attention from all angles. Just as she had when she was a child running or riding a bike, she felt her hair flowing behind in a shampoo commercial breeze. Was it vanity? From this description, it certainly sounds like it. But really, it was more of the feeling of threading through those throngs with grace, navigating with elegant ease.

It’s not as if she was aiming to make any connections -- with people, of course; she did aim to connect with the right planes as planned on her tickets. There was safety in this anonymity, though. A perfect glance, angled and reflected, offered more recharge than any inflight coffee or cocktail could ever hope to. Nothing need follow, and nothing ever would.

Onward, upward, away. An admiring look. A child’s wonder. The dreamy approval of a young couple wandering toward their next destination together. So many looks to catch. Motion. And the look to return? Confidence. Forward. Self-aware. She might never -- would never -- be on a catwalk, but this was the closest display she’d ever want. Get it. Know it. Go.