I decided to take my lunchtime walk in the forest today. Tardree Forest has a reputation for being a dodgy place, reputed to be full of doggers, cottagers and the like. But I thought to myself, "Sod it. I don't care. I want to walk among the trees." And I did. And for most of the time I was there I saw not one soul.
The thing is that when a place gets a rep you get to thinking that anyone you see there is up to something. And, of course, you expect them to think that you're at some sort of rascality too.
But I saw no one. Until I was walking back to my car -and there was a cyclist, maybe fortyish, wearing the full gear, lycra and helmet and he's walking along with his bike, which I thought odd.
Then I thought, "Shame on you Nelly. Maybe his bike is broke." So I said, "Your bike OK?" and he says, "Yes. It's fine." And I say, "Just odd to see a cyclist walking y'know?" And he says, "I'm getting picked up."
Coming behind me are two women on horseback and when they see the cyclist they stop and wait a bit.
I get into the car thinking that he probably thought I was trying to pick him up. I wonder did he have an assignation with those horsewomen? Rare place Tardree.
It is not nice to tell half a story. You should have hung around to see what happened, or you should have made up something believable but delicious. There is no line between fiction and reality that needs to be obeyed when the pen is in the hand of a writer like you. Grow, Nelly.
ReplyDeleteI'm afraid I was on my lunchbreak and couldn't take the time to stay and see what happened.
ReplyDeleteBut I take your point.
I really liked your story about the bed that healed backs. A romance in every part of it.