He slipped out of bed and into his green sweats, scanning the hotel room for her shadow. It was then that he noticed the cold wind penetrating the dar...ness. The sliding glass door that led to the balcony was wide open, the curtain pushed aside. He walked toward it, mumbling her name beneath his breath. He hated to be cold. Grant found her standing near the railing of the small balcony, her white nightgown whipping in the wind. Animated by the ocean breeze, Carrie’s hair seemed to dance and fly. On one of my trips I was approaching a deserted picnic area outside a village with public loo still open. As I parked my bike at the side and did a couple of leg stretch exercises, I saw another racing bike round the back with no rider in sight. I went in and was surprised to see an older tall lycra clad gent pulling up his breeks round his bare arse. Apologising I went about my business as he left. There is something about the glancing look of `recognition`that clicks in the mind from previous. More

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