There she is, sitting on the window sill, cigarette smoke surrounding her silhouette with the back-drop of a sleeping Bornean city.  The atmosphere is humid, intense and sexual.  The outline of her breasts show between her unbuttoned shirt, how I long to touch them again with an intense gentleness.  I’m still shaking slightly, droplets of sweat on my top lip and others making their way down the side of my face.  My head is swimming.  I still haven’t come to terms with the situation in which I have found myself.  Is this a dream? It is a dream; it’s a living dream, too perfect for the imagination, one of the very few perfect moments in life.  Who is she? She is beautiful, not in a purely aesthetic sense, but holistically, she just oozes beauty, sensuality and emotions too inexplicable for the human tongue.  To think it all began with a wink and a smile at a duty free shop in Sydney International Airport.