Forgetting the Past

chapter three - Impulsion

                                                                                     IMPULSION 

                                       

What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?

Didn't any other four words exist in my head?

I continued asking myself the same question, yet continued to pack, and unpack and re-pack.

My hair was a mess, I was all of a sudden a mess. And why? Because a stranger asked me to go with him to Florida for three weeks.

Anthony.

God I hated that name! Annoying, common, yet annoying name.

It's not like if it was the first time that someone I barely knew asked me to go with him somewhere. But now it wasn't in the same conditions! I didn't even know his last name for crying out loud! Therefore, I couldn't google him. He could be a serial killer for all I knew! Maybe he killed his parents! I thought in a sudden shock.

Was I going mad? How could I assume that he was a murderer?

Okay, I was going mad, and I was going.

No I wasn't!

Yes I was!

Even though I was haunted by my well known feeling of being lost once again, my conscience reminded me the risks of this trip and was asking myself whether it was worth losing everything I had worked for more then two decades. Then, what was all that work getting me at? Nothing, I thought.

I resumed my crazed thinking and packing.

Two hours later my bags were done and I had changed my clothe and did some cleaning. I still couldn't believe that I was doing this. Still, I needed to know why he had asked me to come. What was he planning?

Who would have known that one question could lead to such behaviour.

* * *

“So you came, and on time.” Anthony greeted me -in his way I assumed. Greetings without any.

“And so I did,” I greeted him in his own fashion.

We checked-in our luggage. After he gave me my boarding pass we went in a first class lounge. This was the first time I was taking the plane, and it was in first class. Wow. This guy must have some cash, I thought.

Like me, he had changed his clothe -though it must be something normal for someone rich. He wore a simple dark blue Lacoste t-shirt, strait ark jeans and simple sneakers. The dark colours he wore contrasted his skin, while his apparel highlighted his athletic figure. An ordinary woman would be flatted to go anywhere with a man like him. But I wasn't ordinary.

When we reached the first class lounge, a waitress greeted up with a smile patched on her face. She invited us to sit on the leather sofas and offered us various refreshments. In the lounge were mostly businessmen and very few businesswomen and tourists like us. After we took place on one of the numerous luxurious seats, the waitress served our cocktails and snacks. After a few minutes of waiting there and staring in outer space, I finally found the courage to inquire after his parents. I know that one mustn't ask question like these in such circumstances, but I couldn't help, myself not to.