Location: El Chorro, Spain
She opened her eyes sleepily and met his gaze. The morning sun beamed through the window bouncing off his golden locks. She gasped at his beauty. He looked like an angel. Happiness washed over her body like a gentle sedative.
I gulped for air and held my breath. I was covered in scratches, balancing precariously on the top branch of an orange tree, that shifted weakly under my weight. The car had stopped on the gravel, although I could not see it, I could hear the soft hum of its engine. You see, if I breathed then I would move and if I moved I would be caught.. a good ninja is never seen and never caught. I remembered some facts I had read, people rarely notice what is above their own eye level. If they looked up would they see me grinning sheepishly? No.. we were on higher ground so we had the advantage.
It was a Sunday and the sun was setting behind the rocky cliffs. We were in the middle of nowhere, or rather El Chorro. This whole concept of every grocery store and restaurant being closed on a Sunday is foreign to me, and so we had not prepared adequately. In our bags our only morsels were a small tub of warm yogurt, a fermented apple, a packet of green tea and a can of baby eels. I cursed my stomach as it rumbled.
I had seen the orange tree in delight, looking around ensuring we were alone I scampered up it to forage some of the succulent fruit. Superman stood below cautiously, giving off the illusion of innocence as if by chance he would stand right under that specific tree with no particular task at hand. He looked guilty with his hands stuffed in his pockets observing a shrub with feigned interest. He is not a good ninja.
The car drove off and I inhaled the deprived oxygen with relief. I whispered softly "are they gone?" yes he had responded. I leant forward on the branch that angrily threatened to break. A twig snapped startling me and the whole tree shook as if it were a dog and I a flea. Holding my breath I maintained concentration shifting my weight and finally, I plucked the orange from the tree's grasp. Tossing the fruit down to Superman I got a glimpse of the arid landscape around us. It was beautiful. Rolling dried hills scattered the earth with rows of systematic olive and pomegranate trees. The houses were made of clay and I wondered curiously. What are these people's lives like? have they ever felt lush grass in-between their toes? a thousand unanswered questions flooded my mind. I climbed down disappointed to leave the security and freedom of my tree.
That evening we shared the baby eels and oranges for supper, squeezing the remainder of the fruit for juice in the morning. At dawn we noticed the juice was a swimming pool, filled with a thousand fat white little worms. We drank the juice and the protein ready for a day of hiking.
It was a Sunday and the sun was setting behind the rocky cliffs. We were in the middle of nowhere, or rather El Chorro. This whole concept of every grocery store and restaurant being closed on a Sunday is foreign to me, and so we had not prepared adequately. In our bags our only morsels were a small tub of warm yogurt, a fermented apple, a packet of green tea and a can of baby eels. I cursed my stomach as it rumbled.
I had seen the orange tree in delight, looking around ensuring we were alone I scampered up it to forage some of the succulent fruit. Superman stood below cautiously, giving off the illusion of innocence as if by chance he would stand right under that specific tree with no particular task at hand. He looked guilty with his hands stuffed in his pockets observing a shrub with feigned interest. He is not a good ninja.
The car drove off and I inhaled the deprived oxygen with relief. I whispered softly "are they gone?" yes he had responded. I leant forward on the branch that angrily threatened to break. A twig snapped startling me and the whole tree shook as if it were a dog and I a flea. Holding my breath I maintained concentration shifting my weight and finally, I plucked the orange from the tree's grasp. Tossing the fruit down to Superman I got a glimpse of the arid landscape around us. It was beautiful. Rolling dried hills scattered the earth with rows of systematic olive and pomegranate trees. The houses were made of clay and I wondered curiously. What are these people's lives like? have they ever felt lush grass in-between their toes? a thousand unanswered questions flooded my mind. I climbed down disappointed to leave the security and freedom of my tree.
That evening we shared the baby eels and oranges for supper, squeezing the remainder of the fruit for juice in the morning. At dawn we noticed the juice was a swimming pool, filled with a thousand fat white little worms. We drank the juice and the protein ready for a day of hiking.