Red Alert!

Jean sat in her stalled car. Nothing seemed to help. The car just wouldn’t start. It was 7pm and most people were probably still at home or had already reached their destination.

The road home had a particularly bad stretch which was normally quiet even when the rest of the city was in traffic jam status.

She dropped her head onto her steering wheel while she berated herself for being so careless.

Mike was always telling her to a) Be aware of your surroundings and b) Make sure that there are no emergency lights on her dashboard.

Now she was really aware of the vulnerability of her situation but how could she have known that that weird red light was a red alert that something was seriously wrong. She had decided that Mike would know what to do when she got home. But now…?

Her cell phone was in the boot but she could normally uses her car’s Bluetooth to make calls but now there was nothing – her car was not co-operating. It was dead and even when she turned the ignition key there was still nothing. She hoped her hazards would work.

If she decided to make a call, she would have to get out the car, walk around to the back, open the boot, and dig around in her voluminous bag to find her phone.

She looked all around – all seemed safe. She tentatively opened her door and it banged into a man who had come out of nowhere.

Now she was scared and quickly closed her door and locked it.

The man was prancing about outside, dancing around her car muttering strange sounds. She saw that he was in full African regalia. Maybe he was a witch doctor but what did he want from her?

Suddenly he rapped on her window, indicating that she must try to start the car. The car obeyed and started. She looked around to thank the man but he had disappeared as quickly and silently as he had arrived.

She wasted no more time and allowed the car to limp back home.

When she related her experience, Mike laughed at her and said that the “medicine man” had done nothing. That was the way of modern cars. Give it a rest and it will limp back home. But Jean knew deep down that the “medicine man” had helped her.  

 

Becoming Me

The sun was glinting on the sea causing the water to give off an almost blinding glare. As my eyes grew accustomed to the glare, I cast my eyes around. The ship was fully booked but the deck that I had discovered was not used by many people – most used the “social deck”. The one that was at the top of the ship. The one that had the pool, deck chairs, and ready refreshments. I needed the solitude that my quiet deck gave me.

I stood by the railing, clutching the urn. The urn that contained the happiest moments of my life. The urn that contained the saddest moments as well as the angry moments.

As I looked at the urn a feeling of peace started to descend on me. Soon I would rid myself of all the unwanted emotions in my body. Soon I would be ready to start my life as a different person with a different name and an identity that I could live with. Sarah Brown would be gone. Jill Inverness would step off the boat in Italy, ready to start a new life.

I opened the urn.

It was filled with my thoughts, a few material possessions, and my writing.

I looked around to make sure that no one was around and scrabbled in my bag for the lighter that would obliterate my old life. I placed the urn on the deck and slowly lowered the lighter into the urn as I ignited it. It was fascinating to watch the flames eating up my old self.

When the flames had died and my old life was now ashes, I lifted the urn above the railings and emptied Sarah Brown into the ocean.