YRKB
08-01-2011, 09:24 AM
There was gunfire up in one of the hills overlooking the house and we were in the backyard.
Hana sort of sat up a little straighter and flicked up her shades. Marco was still lying on the blanket - but took his arms from behind his head and crossed them - like, tense.
'We should go inside. It makes me nervous, honestly.'
No one answered her, as usual, but Carl rolled his eyes next to me with a dismissive grunt, and sipped on one of the frozen cocktails I brought out earlier. I managed to make myself look up higher, almost nonchalantly, than the hills - and had to appreciate how blue and bright it had worked out this weekend.
'The New Wild West: A Classic Paradise' I remembered reading an online article with that headline a month or so back. It summed it up for me. My summer house with it's white and red patterned brickwork patio, green turf lawns fringed with purple, red and orange flowers on all sides, the beach only 2 kilometers away - it wasn't what I could ever understand a war zone to be.
Even seeing a few cars rusted and blasted out, lying on odd tilts in the overgrown jungle paths on our way here, hadn't registered with me. It rarely did.
But people were up there, shooting at something. Taking aim, securing targets - and it chilled me when it crossed my mind that it could be one of us.
I found a pleasant excuse (I'd have someone rustle us up a salad and warm bread lunch) and we trundled inside. I cranked up the stereo - blasting one of the Steel Pulse CDs Marco left last time we were here together, and the appreciative moan of the group got me smiling.
I wish I could have closed the patio doors, there was gunfire tittering away in the quieter parts of the track. Hana was zoned out over a cigarette.
I would have suggested camping up there in the next few days. Now we'd just have to keep heading to the louder, Southernmost, part town - we all came down here for the summer, so there'd always be some other group to ride down and hook up with. The beach front lit up beautifully at night, the DJs were always good around this time, and the navy ships were always further out.
We'd have fun.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown
Hana sort of sat up a little straighter and flicked up her shades. Marco was still lying on the blanket - but took his arms from behind his head and crossed them - like, tense.
'We should go inside. It makes me nervous, honestly.'
No one answered her, as usual, but Carl rolled his eyes next to me with a dismissive grunt, and sipped on one of the frozen cocktails I brought out earlier. I managed to make myself look up higher, almost nonchalantly, than the hills - and had to appreciate how blue and bright it had worked out this weekend.
'The New Wild West: A Classic Paradise' I remembered reading an online article with that headline a month or so back. It summed it up for me. My summer house with it's white and red patterned brickwork patio, green turf lawns fringed with purple, red and orange flowers on all sides, the beach only 2 kilometers away - it wasn't what I could ever understand a war zone to be.
Even seeing a few cars rusted and blasted out, lying on odd tilts in the overgrown jungle paths on our way here, hadn't registered with me. It rarely did.
But people were up there, shooting at something. Taking aim, securing targets - and it chilled me when it crossed my mind that it could be one of us.
I found a pleasant excuse (I'd have someone rustle us up a salad and warm bread lunch) and we trundled inside. I cranked up the stereo - blasting one of the Steel Pulse CDs Marco left last time we were here together, and the appreciative moan of the group got me smiling.
I wish I could have closed the patio doors, there was gunfire tittering away in the quieter parts of the track. Hana was zoned out over a cigarette.
I would have suggested camping up there in the next few days. Now we'd just have to keep heading to the louder, Southernmost, part town - we all came down here for the summer, so there'd always be some other group to ride down and hook up with. The beach front lit up beautifully at night, the DJs were always good around this time, and the navy ships were always further out.
We'd have fun.
Copyright Yafeu-Khamisi Rodway-Brown