He could see them through the canopy of leaves, the circling, watchful, waiting of them. He looked at the leaves and grasses not bad but not good enough. He needed more, he needed to be able to both cover and distract and what he had would be no good for either.
He moved, if he was very careful he could move an inch or so, he could definitely move both arms and if he was careful one leg could move a bit, look on the bright side he told himself, if he could stand he could find a stick and hobble to the end of the road. He had time yet, but not much, he felt drowsy and knew that sleep would be his biggest and probably his last mistake.
Why had he chosen this route? He couldn't now work it out, had it been prettier, easier? Had it looked for one brief second shorter? No, he'd decided to walk the path on a whim he'd wanted to be alone, now he was, he hadn't wanted to meet any nosy, noisy neighbours, now he knew he almost certainly wouldn't.
She wouldn't come looking for him. The thought bothered him, she'd lay there, waiting for him, or someone, but she wouldn't worry, there was always someone else in her realm. He thought of the curtains drawn against the day, how odd would that look? The music blaring loud, would anyone complain? He doubted it, why should they they never had before.
He thought of her body warm and wet of the times she had waited just so for him. He thought of her spread across the bed in erotic disarray. He wondered how long before her next guest and would they notice the change, bright, darkening colour. He found he could think about that with a kind of detachment. It was her fault after all. He had only done what any man would do and now he had his own problems and they were getting closer.
Which would come first the vultures or the night and would it make much difference.....
He moved, if he was very careful he could move an inch or so, he could definitely move both arms and if he was careful one leg could move a bit, look on the bright side he told himself, if he could stand he could find a stick and hobble to the end of the road. He had time yet, but not much, he felt drowsy and knew that sleep would be his biggest and probably his last mistake.
Why had he chosen this route? He couldn't now work it out, had it been prettier, easier? Had it looked for one brief second shorter? No, he'd decided to walk the path on a whim he'd wanted to be alone, now he was, he hadn't wanted to meet any nosy, noisy neighbours, now he knew he almost certainly wouldn't.
She wouldn't come looking for him. The thought bothered him, she'd lay there, waiting for him, or someone, but she wouldn't worry, there was always someone else in her realm. He thought of the curtains drawn against the day, how odd would that look? The music blaring loud, would anyone complain? He doubted it, why should they they never had before.
He thought of her body warm and wet of the times she had waited just so for him. He thought of her spread across the bed in erotic disarray. He wondered how long before her next guest and would they notice the change, bright, darkening colour. He found he could think about that with a kind of detachment. It was her fault after all. He had only done what any man would do and now he had his own problems and they were getting closer.
Which would come first the vultures or the night and would it make much difference.....
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