A FICTIONAL NON-FICTION


“If you have a candle, the light won’t glow any dimmer if I light yours off of mine.”

                                                                                                             – Steve Tyler

The sun sets over the ruins of Antigua. Crumbled masonry work hundreds of years old catching the last rays of warmth before the evening chill sets in. The streets fill with people, the fiesta begins. It is a Saturday night. But not just any Saturday night, this is one of those nights where something is shared; something so sacred, so raw.

The chatter and banter among friends grows rowdy as happy hour draws to a close. But the next is just about to begin – a change of scene and all resumes as it was just minutes earlier. Friends are together, new and old. Time slips by like sand through fingers.

The diversity of the world on offer in every corner of the bar; I strike up a conversation with a stunning young European woman. Introductions are shared and the obligatory Lord of the Rings discussion ensues, though this one is curtailed owing to my ignorance of both the books and the movies. The conversation turns to more delectable topics – life, peace, love. There is an aura about this woman, she is frank and to the point. You don’t often meet someone so real, so honest – the kind of honesty and sincerity you can see deep in someone’s eyes. That glint, that shine; a sort of cheekiness that absorbs you.

The hour becomes late and deserved rest is beckoning. Arm in arm, stride for stride we make our way to her apartment. She turns her head,

“There is a 99.99% chance that I will never see you again after this night. There is something I would like to share about my past…”

You don't often meet someone so real, so honest. We find ourselves in a deep embrace on cold, stone steps. We say very little – there is little that can be said. A raw moment. I pull her close. I hold her closer. I whisper something in her ear.

It is a cruel world. Why?