8pm. ‘They're late’, thought she as she laid the table. Impatiently she glanced at the clock. ‘I’ll be late... again’. She hated to be late. But then, a smile lit her face as she thought about her nightly tryst with her … ‘friend’ well yes, friend, love, companion. She relived that heady feeling; that touch of the evening breeze on her skin - cool and refreshing in the summer, arctic crisp in the winter; the intoxicating scent of summer tube roses that kept them company or the Chrysanthemums that filled the winter nights with their fragrance. And there was music, ah yes, the music had to be just right.
She smiled to herself then shook her head to dispel the image – later, she told herself firmly, it’ll have to wait. Only after dinner could she give in to her passion. First, she was a mum, a wife.
As if on cue, the kids rushed in.
‘Hurry hurry’, said she. ‘Wash and change. Dinner’s at the table’. Half an hour later as the Husband settled down to the day’s news before the telly, she tucked the kids in and kissed them good night.
Free at last, she walked out of her apartment, out in the open air for her nightly rendezvous - that one hour of pure, selfish happiness – hers and hers alone – with her love, her friend. She sniffed the fresh air with pleasured anticipation then reached for her iPod. Her friend was before her, waiting. ‘I’ve come,’ said she breathlessly, as the road stretched ahead – silent, inviting, encouraging.
She ran then, the pounding of her feet matched by the hammering of her heart, drowning herself in the pure pleasure of the adrenalin rush of her run, forgetting everything else - just she and the road, her love for all seasons.
Linking to Blog-A-Rhythm's Wordy Wednesday.
So do you have a secret hobby too? Or maybe not a secret, but something special that you do ONLY for yourself? To unwind, to have fun - just fun? Do share here.