Spices

I was walking down the Notting Hill to pick up some old LP’s from the Portobello Market. It’s a weekend thing that I do more often nowadays than before. That’s when it happened. I saw clouds of spice rising up the air, making swirls and curves and inexplicable shapes, growing with each passing moment. I don’t know how long I stood there, bewitched, literally, by the wavering shapes. I fell in love with the smells- vanilla, cardamom, cinnamon, patchouli, lavender… slowly, I steadied the quiver of doubt in my heart and walked towards the board which in bright red announced “Spices” and saw him for the first time. He was reading the contents of a vial of spice intently and as if someone had suddenly pricked him, he looked up and saw me… no expression, just a blank look at first. Then his gaze turned warm and felt like soft misty clouds on my face. That’s when I noticed his olive skin and brown hair and the good looks that came with them.

Do you ever get drawn to places where you are not supposed to be? I do, all the bloody time… I did pick up a LP at last and what happened in between is a story for another day. That LP was sent all the way to India… Layla (Eric Clapton)….