fear

Fear.

The queue was casual at a bus stop where I seem to spend a lot of time, and the girl in front of me was nothing unusual save for the fact I normally scare them away. But there was something amiss in this otherwise tranquil post meridian cameo where baking heat ensured everything went slow, then slower.

When she spoke to me, it was if impeded speech was holding her shy conversation to ransom and down one side of her being everything trembled.

Fear? no…..not fear.

Yet surely too young for the selection box of ailments that would cause such a tremor.

Stroke? Parkinsons?

Fear? no…. not fear.

Although no medic, I understand pain…and as she climbed aboard the guagua, holding out her coins for the driver to make a fiscal decision the metal bounced around her palm and I understood her pain.

The bus pulled away from Nuevo Horizonte and on toward El Matorral. The grubby windows , allowing scant visual access to a Fuerteventura wonder of another molasses sun melting onto the mountainous horizon., as if the volcanic ranges were collecting setting gold and I considered how lucky I was to be fit and worry free……for now.

Fear? no…not fear.