I was late that day. It was only the second time we had met like this.
Plans were made, hurriedly, on the phone.
The anger of my current situation, I took with me in my mind. But this soon waned, although thoughts were mixed, confused.
How did I feel?
Frightened to a degree as I kept looking over my shoulder, I don’t like the bush much when I’m alone. Nature, flowers and trees grew all around and they were entitled to. I was out of place, I was the visitor. I wished again that this meeting could have been elsewhere not so hemmed in, surrounded.
It reminded me of another time. When I had to meet a friend at an old airfield. Hidden and forgotten. There was long waving African grass as high as the car to pass through. I felt trapped there; not sure if I wanted to go ahead. However, there was no turning around on that dirt track!
I didn’t turn back. I made the right decision then.
Now it was summer and I was wearing a long flowing, bright coloured, Indian skirt, almost see-through, with a white cotton blouse pulled in at the hip by a rope belt that had wooden beads dangling from it. They clicked together below my knees, as I moved. My toes gripped onto flat tan leather sandals, with hair falling down either side of my neck, around which hung a heavy silver chain and locket. The wedding rings on my fingers irritated in the heat.
Could it have been an omen?
Am I content?
As comfy today, as I will ever be, given the circumstances. Me, I tend to get into these situations and although there is something in my mind telling me to think again, I doggedly follow my nose because that was the first decision. Dumb!
“You’re late”, he said
“You waited”, I said.
“How did you know I would?”
“Just knew”, I said.