Friday 9 September 2011

lost friend

I was dressing for a night out, but I was tired and late. I sat  - half-dressed - and hurriedly ate a meal, knowing I would be even later. My friend rang to find out where I was; I could somehow see her waiting, standing on a hill, dressed in dark red, the wind blowing her hair. We arranged to meet here instead and, even so, I knew I hadn't enough time. Sure enough, she arrived at the front door well before I was ready - a glamorous figure. We hugged and she looked into my face; she could see that I was tired. I finished dressing, though not well; my clothes were ill-fitting and drab. I had no time to shower or groom, and we left. Arriving at a large concert hall, we were ushered to our seats toward the front of the theatre. Once seated, the usher returned and pointed out a better vantage - seats up toward the back. My friend followed the usher to inspect the seats, while I minded our spot. I lost sight of my friend int he crowd and, knowing the show was soon to start, I went to find her. I couldn't see her anywhere but heard that she was in the foyer, talking with friends. I thought it best to sit down as the curtains were opening. I shuffled through the legs of the seated audience until I reached the two vacant seats, still distracted by the absence of my friend. I was not at all comfortable; in fact, the seat had now elevated so that I was blocking the view of the person behind. I tried to lower it, disrupting the people around me. A couple of people moved and I was somewhat embarrassed. The show began and it was awful: bad acting, dreadful singing and of terrible taste. Someone came to tell me that there had been an accident in the foyer, so - relieved that I could abandon the show - I raced out, thinking my friend had fallen or some such thing.
There had been an accident at sea. I peered out to the horizon and could see ships bottom up and sinking. Ships nose-down, black in a grey ocean. The water had risen and my friend was swept away. She and the others in the foyer were now dragged by a swift current south. About seven people were struggling to stay afloat, powerless against the pull as they rushed through the water, desperately grabbing at anything to aide their plight. I ran along the shore, following them, my friend ever in view. I shouted to her, words of encouragement to buoy her. I followed for miles, running apace, keeping track of her. I thought she was lost.