The Writer

 My Local Shopping Mall.

Arriving ten minutes before opening time at 10 am., I sat in the waiting area outside (see picture) and looked across at the crowd gathering tightly around the door in order to be the first through.  Why do we do this?  The mall’s capacity is for thousands, the crowd, roughly 50 people of all shapes and sizes speaking Spanish, English, German and Danish are surreptitiously jostling to position themselves in front of the crack so that as the doors slide open their dainty size 42’s are the first to tread those shiny ceramic tiles. 

Now I say size 42’s because these competitive characters are all men.  The ladies are all hanging back; the older ones rolling their granny wheelies backward and forward with a faraway look in their eyes, the middle aged ones leaning on one leg and tapping the toe of the foot on the other leg as if in time to some silent orchestra and the younger ones idly looking at their nails, adjusting their clothing, sussing the talent and generally looking absolutely stunning in Spanish, English, German and Danish. What time do these ladies get up in the morning?  Everything is in place, perfect, controlled and styling.  Boy, I am SO glad I’m not a man (of any age) in this country where the women walk around half naked showing off their perfectly tanned and toned bodies. 

Anyway, back to the boyz….  now once upon a time Spain was where the females were gorgeous until they married and then they let themselves go to fat but now,  as I watch these testosterone fuelled specimens of manhood vying to be first, I notice that the younger ones are all muscles and machismo, supplement and gym toned to perfection. Their slightly older brothers starting to go to seed and then what looks like the  40-60 age group which I had always found very sexy are saggy, unkempt and decidedly miserable looking.  There are today,  just a few 60+ and guess what guys, they are standing in the 2^nd row watching the front row in amusement.  I can literally feel their mirth from here – they have nothing to prove – they KNOW the coup.

The doors  open, the rush was on, the crowd is gone and a gaping void awaits  my dainty 38’s.

Your Turn Now. 

Rosario breathed a sigh of relief and pressed the buttons on the door for the two front windows to go down quietly.

The open road ahead looked so good after sitting in the city’s traffic jams for so long. Turning the music up louder she wriggled comfortably and settled in for the 600 kms., drive. Isn’t it amazing she thought, the sun is shining and the temperature is 30º yet the breeze wafting in is reasonably cool.

Suddenly a big silver Mercedes glides up by her side and rests parallel seemingly quite happy to just ride alongside her little Seat. As she looks over to the driver her heart skips a beat, her breath catches in her throat and an involuntary reaction makes her turn the steering wheel towards the vehicle by her side and she feels a gentle bump as wing touches wing almost like a fleeting kiss between two lovers. Oh my God she thinks as she takes her foot off the accelerator and coasts into the hard shoulder.

Pulling up she looks into the rear view mirror but there is nothing, just empty road ahead and behind her. Turning around she can’t believe her eyes “Where is it” she says out loud. No sign. She unbuckles her safety belt and steps out onto the tarmac. Walking around the car she looks up and down the road but there isn’t another car to be seen Where has it gone? She had seen it, she had bumped it. Panicking she rushes to the damaged wing but it isn’t damaged. Her head spins and she falls against the car sliding slowly down to the ground in slow motion like one of those dramatic scenes in a cheesy play.

Seconds later she seems to come-to, shaking her head and struggling to her feet she walks slowly around to the driver’s side climbs in and puts the safety belt on.

Cruising at 80 kms., an hour with the sun beating down Rosario realises that there aren’t any other cars on the road, she looks across the barrier to the other side and there aren’t any on that side either.

This is surreal she thinks. Everything is in slow motion and... she feels more than sees a shadow to her right. She desperately fights the urge to look until she can’t control it any longer and then turns to see him riding along beside her in his big silver Mercedes.

Looking straight into her dead husband’s eyes she knows..... “Oh Antonio” she says “I knew you would come back for me but I didn’t think it would be this soon! The children are young, I haven’t made provision for them. I haven’t written a will. I, I....”

The impact as she hits the lorry head on kills her instantly and in that split second before she dies she feels a smile cross her face as she remembers that the twins are strapped into their car chairs on the back seat. They aren’t going to be orphans after all.