The Meeting

She was to see an old friend, of whom she has lost sight for eighteen years.

At one time he was her most intimate friend, one whom she was able to bare her young soul and also her heart. One of a handful of friends who knew her thoughts, with whom she passed long, insightful, happy conversations, to whom she told some of her secret dreams, and who was able to draw out from her those rare, ingenious, delicate thoughts born of that similar woeful circumstance they shared.

For a short while, they shared thoughts and dreams together; liked the same things, had believed the same socio-political principles, admired the same authors, trembled with the same sensations, and very often laughed at the same individuals, whom they understood completely by merely exchanging a glance.

Then he left. He left, quite suddenly, to attend a different school too far for them to continue their afternoon conversations. That intelligent, clever young fellow whom she has made a unique connection has gone away. She cannot understand why these things have to happen. No doubt his family had hoped for a better future for their firstborn, they have sent him in this far away place where both of them can no longer see nor talk to each other again.

What would he be like when she meets him again? Still lively, witty, light-hearted and enthusiastic, or in a state of social torpor induced by a long and difficult academic life? A man may change greatly in the course of eighteen years!

The taxi stopped in front of the coffee house, and as he got out of the cab, a weary-looking man wearing a formal shirt and a black laptop bag rushed up to her with an exhausted look, apologizing: "Sorry, I'm late" she smiled at him, but she did not immediately recognize him, and then she said, in stride: "Don't I even get a smile and a hug?" And he replied with a laugh:

"What did you expect? Long work hours, traffic, too much deadlines and a boss that won't get off my back! Work, work and more work, that is my existence!"

She looked at him closely, trying to discover in that weary face the features she held so dear. His eyes alone had changed, but she still saw the same expression in them, and she said to herself: "If the expression be the reflection of the mind, the thoughts in that head are still what they used to be; those thoughts which I knew so well."

Yet his eyes were dull, brooding and almost always anxious about something, but they still have that clear, intelligent expression which shows as much as words the brightness of the intellect. Suddenly he said:

"I apologize for being so late, I had to meet with a client on my way out of the office plus the traffic on the way here is much worse than I have expected."

He said this in a proud, self-satisfied, almost triumphant manner, and she felt a profound sense of sadness, mingled with a feeling of vague resentment, for this vainglorious individual.

"I know a place where we can eat, I am starving, you ready?"

They set off away from the center of the city, a noisy, crowded amalgam of people, shops and merchandise, where everything seems to be bright and moving. He carried her heavy overnight bag as if he has done it a thousand times before, as if it is the most natural thing for him to do. It made her feel a bit uncomfortable, she can't understand why. She felt nervous and at the same time giddy as she fall in step to that old familiar feeling she thought she lost years ago...