NyLon – Chapter 1

I got up half-heartedly at 6am and at 7 already was in Hounslow on the A4 when Raffa flew over me in the massive Svirgin superjumbo from New York. I had the impression that the landing gear shaved my head. How could people live there, it was a mystery less comprehensible only than why the hell the airport had been developed to the west of the city, whereas it was well known that the wind is westerly most of the time and airplanes will always counter wind rigorously. This meant that an airplane per minute, a thousand a day, flew over the city at a low altitude, and naturally in times of terrorism the clever people in the government decided to expand it, Heathrow, with a third runway and a fifth terminal… Bah, politics, politics, I couldn’t help thinking of anything else. And women. It would have taken half an hour more to get and park at Terminal 3, but it would have taken even more to her to tidy up the first class. I wasn’t late. I was never late.

Raffa carried around her forties pretty well. She spent half of them up in the sky reaching the top for her career – responsible of the first class cabin, never more than eighteen passengers and a decent catering to share with her colleague Maria Cristina, a good salary and a fixed route with invariable routine: five atlantic flights a week, alternating weekends between the twin metropolis. That nocturnal flight had been an exception due to a terror alarm on her customary flight from Newark the morning before, which was due in London at 8pm on Friday. Had it not been for one of those more and more frequent alarms, she would have ended her working week like it had begun on Monday morning in Newark. Instead, the following one would have started on the afternoon flight, which would have taken her to New Jersey in time to catch up Manhattan for dinner. A beautiful life her Italian friends were envious of, getting to know a lot of interesting people in first class, although a bit stressful time to time, the bigger annoyance being wearing high heels and nylon stockings, a synthetic material she didn’t like. As usual, as soon as she jumped into the car she got rid of them both, only to put on her heels again, causing me the erection that was to accompany us at home. Unfortunately I couldn’t stop by, I had to go to the party headquarters. I parked Raffa and the Ferrari in the garage, I kissed them both and went walking along the Thames.