Two Women

I have no idea what it’s like for other men, I can only speak for myself.

From time to time my attention is caught. Snagged. You are walking along and suddenly your whole body is jerked backwards because a loop on your coat has caught on something, unawares. These days I have a tendency to respond to that like a bull in a china shop. Not always advisedly.

Generally, it’s just the one snag at a time. I am therefore at something of a loss to find myself doubly caught. It certainly wasn’t planned and I wasn’t looking for it. I did not even think I was built that way.

Both are from the same country, and its not England. It’s South Africa.

One isn’t really available. We chat. After a bit of an explosive meltdown we are just friends.

The other I have no way of contacting directly. It’s more of a slow orbit, and at some considerable geographical distance.

Both are hugely impractical. But practicality rarely interferes with that moment when you are stopped in your tracks, or at least not with me it doesn’t. I never was big on pragmatic.