It was February 1, 1993. I had just finished shooting a video in Israel for a corporate client. I was an American living in London, separated and waiting for my divorce to come through. So, with no reason to rush back home, I headed down to Eilat for a little sun and sand. I wandered the beaches alone, a solitary figure framed against the shadows of the setting sun. For three lonely days, I spoke to no one and then it was time to head to the airport. As I was checking in, I saw two beautiful English women just ahead of me, and we shared a few small-talk words. After they’d checked in, I asked the ticket clerk if she could seat me next to them, but she said the closest available seat was two rows ahead and three rows...

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