Karin skipped through the barriers and past a security guard. She took one final look back at me as, with her fingers, she pushed away the errant strands of her platinum hair and her eyes were green as the misty slopes of her Cambrian forefathers, glistening despite the cold neon lights.
Arghh, she’d hate it! How about…
Karin looked over her shoulder as she brushed past a security guard and through the barrier, and with one final glance, her sea-green eyes held mine with a furtive twinkle under an ashen fluorescent light.
Okay, too corny, no better. I needed to think this through some more…
Let’s say that I stood at the barriers and waited for her to clear security, destination, Hong Kong. The opposite direction from me.
Standing there like that was like being asked to pose for a photograph that took too long to set up. I was unsure of when to smile, where to put my hands, or whether I should wave or put them in my pockets or on my hips.
I handed her a Tesco supermarket bag stuffed with the hammock she took everywhere and in my palm she thrust a hastily written address so that we could keep in touch. But after all the white suns, and the bright blue skies of our love affair we looked tired and pallid under a yellow cast airport light, and any thoughts of reunion lay buried in the inevitability of departure.
As usual, her carefully coiffed ponytail was pinned high on the crown of her head to reveal the delicate curve of the new tanned nape of her neck. With one more toss of that ponytail, did I see the briefest smile on her face before she disappeared from view?
I stood still and watched the empty barrier, watched and waited for the memory to pass.
Well, maybe I can work with that.
March 1988
三. Hong Kong, a Love Story Lima. Life in Paradise Part 2