She guided her car onto the pier and drove its full length before parking and killing the motor. A full moon cast a blue light over the frozen expanse of St Albans Bay. She arranged half a dozen candles along the dash board, lighting them with a yellow bic lighter as she put them in place. The flickering candles filled the interior of the car with a wavering light that transformed her windows into mirrors and blinded her to my approach.As I rapped on the window with black leather knuckles she turned and looked blindly toward the mirror-window. Dark hair with a few gray streaks framed a white, heart-shaped face with thin lips and black eyes. She opened her door apologizing as she did for her broken window which didn’t roll down.
“I saw you parked out here and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Oh…yeah…I’m fine.”
“Can I ask what you’re doing out here?”
“I’m just waiting for midnight, I guess.”
3 comments:
umm, was she doing some weird ritual or something? there must be more to the story!
That was the vibe I got, but she became less than cooperative (even beligerant) as I pried further into what she was doing. After she said that she was waiting for midnight I think asked her something like "what happens at midnight?" and she got angry and shot back- "Am I doing something illegal?!?!" I was concerned that she was going to kill herself or something out there, but she assured me that she was not up to any mischief and nor did she intend to harm herself so I left her to her own devices with her weird voodoo candles and just drove away. Who knows.
"There must be more to the story!"
I have always felt the same way. I wish I knew what she was doing. I'm nosey like that.
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