She hears bells; the sun is a benediction on the back of her head and shoulders. The church is on her left at the end of the courtyard, as he said it would be. She finds a bench near one of the blue doors set into a stone portico. Now the intensity of the afternoon sun is focused mid-torso, but she is oblivious, her heart rate slightly elevated; her inhalations shallow and rapid.
She has never travelled outside of Canada before. Barcelona is a revelation. He is a revelation. The longer she waits for him, the more shards of doubt pierce her confidence. Perhaps she shouldn’t have told him so much about herself, him of the carefully listening face and kind caramel eyes.
Shut up! she tells herself. For the first time in her life she feels part of the scene instead of a still life encased by a pretty frame.
Anticipation – Fragment #70