The meal had been Bea’s idea, her way of thanking me for being such good company. It had taken her way back into a part of her that she had thought was lost forever.As I slowly finished my lunch Bea came and sat with me again keeping her hands in her lap, over the apron she wore. It was the first time I had noticed that particular apron and it made me feel special. Continue reading
Old photo of West Indian working men doing their own laundry. They were not fortunate enough to have the help of WI women.
As I got back to the work at hand a cool sea breeze reminded me that the surf was a short walk from where I had ended up that morning. Then I looked up and my host had disappeared into the house. Time seemed to fly and my muscles were not yet tired. The sun at that hour of the day had become merciless, however, as I continued to whack away all my troubles thinking, time and again, that I had better just jump on the first ferry and take may sorry self up the line and plead with my boss to give me back my job. Continue reading