Pivotal Moment

Pivotal Moment

She cycled up to me as I waited in the shade. Her floppy flowerpot hat gave her an elfin look. Half her face was cast in shadow, half was bright with the flaming sun. A round, happy face: toffee nose, shiny almond eyes, a candy twist in her smile. So sweet! My diminutive woman. A string of beads graced her neck, shining on her nut-brown skin like a white halo. She wore a skimpy black bikini top flecked with navy blue, soft summer shorts and faded canvas shoes. The locals told me she roasted by the sea. A sun child with skin as dark as caramel. Adorable! She sat astride her bicycle, one foot on the pedal, tiptoe on the ground, applied her brake, and watched.

There was an old stone fountain in the square with a crude protruding spout which poured water down the worn rock face into a dark pool. Embedded in the edifice was a warning sign. Refraining from drinking, I splashed ice-cold water over my burnt face and chest, intoxicated by the thrill of its refreshment. She rang her melodic bell. ‘Ring me anytime!’ it chimed. And then I made my wish.

She cycled up to me as I waited by the wishing well. I held her in my arms, and we kissed. That was the moment I fell in love with her. The moment I knew I wanted us to spend the rest of our lives together.

And I haven’t regretted a single moment since.

HJ Furl