by Regi Claire
The abrupt sound of a zip being opened, rustlings, the retch of velcro fastenings, more zip noises, more rustlings, the jingle of keys and coins.
‘AlexAlexAlex,’ Celia whispers to herself kissing the syllables with her tongue. For a moment she closes her eyes to shut out the cave blackness. But there’s no surge of excitement at the thought of him. Nothing. Instead she finds herself imagining all the men in the world outside, beyond the cave. Faceless men, and still unknown. Men in the snow. In the sun. Men asleep. And awake. Herself with them. Or without them. YES!
Her hand is clutching the figurine again: YES! YES! YES! clutching it so hard the carved edges are beginning to hurt her.
‘Got you!’ Walter’s voice breaks the spell.
Seconds later a thin wavering flame licks into the darkness.
‘Happy now?’ he asks.
Celia smiles to herself. Then in one swift movement she takes the lighter from him and walks off towards where she knows her lamp must be.