The possibilities are endless. But, it only takes one. The briefest of moments in eternity. Those with the worst of luck are the ones that meet someone in an airport terminal, and fate has them traveling in opposite directions. For once, I’m not one of them. She walked by, gripping a book under her arm, deep in conversation with a friend of hers. It looked like a book by Jodi Picoult. Nonetheless, a book is a book. But, the way she clenched it to her chest made it a much greater story. It was her religion. Sacrificing herself to the literary gods, proving that she is worthy of such gifts. I’ve always thought myself to be addicted to reading, always stealing a quick page here and there. She, however, had it just as bad. We would need a seeing-eye dog if we kept it up at the pace we were going. I stopped reading though. I was watching her now, admiring. It’s enthralling, siting here watching her. Those dark eyes of hers darting across the pages, making her appear even more beautiful. It’s the subtlety that makes it so powerful. I catch myself smiling, and I turn away just as she looks up at me. The smile is still there, though, like crumbs around a cookie jar. They announce my flight, and I see that she is getting up as well. Silently, I thank the heavens. I turn around to look for her. She’s standing a few feet away, smiling as my eyes meet hers. There’s something addictive about a stranger’s smile.