The featured photo mirrors the progress of my writing today, each depicting a walk around a lake. The lake in the photo is Cleveley Mere, in Lancashire, England. It is the setting for a small resort of lakeside holiday chalets. I was there with my wife in February 2017. I captured the image with my Pentax K3ii 24MP cropped sensor camera and used a 16-85 mm f/3.5-5.6 lens at f/11 and 26 mm. The settings were ISO 100, and 1/13 seconds. The camera was handheld, but I was braced against a tree. No filters were used.
After the Social Dance, Gareth and Sandra, having returned to their respective homes soliloquise about their feelings – both were feeling inadequate to pursue their private hopes.
The following day, Sunday afternoon, each of them, Gareth with his son and Sandra with her daughter and baby grand daughter, decide to go for a walk around the Mere. This is unplanned, but they set off from opposite sides of the lake, walking in opposite directions. They meet at a bend in the path. The reaction of the adults to the surprise encounter sets alarm bells going in the minds of their children.
After each party continues on its original course, Peter and Barbara, the children, interrogate their parents, disbelieving that the meeting was coincidental (or fate as Gareth had referred to it in a jokey but misjudged allusion to the meeting of yesterday afternoon). Both of the children believe that their parents are misleading them – at least by referring to the relationship as ‘just good friends’.
Barbara threatens to tell her brother, Peter to tell Gareth’s ex-wife.
That night Sandra telephones Peter to ask whether he had also been quizzed. They discuss the accusation, but end by agreeing that perhaps the children had been more astute than they themselves. They agree that, despite their feelings, they hardly know each other and that the remedy is to meet more often, the better to become more acquainted. As to the threatened disclosures they agree that they ‘may as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb’.
All-in-all, the meeting today was as much a surprise to me as to the fictional parties involved. Creative writing hardly gets more creative than that. At ten o’clock this morning I had no idea what to write about. Today took me to more than 23,900 words. A veritable marathon for me.