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My Constant Companion

— by Elaine Kingett

I was walking up a dirt track in Crete when I lost my friend. It’s almost a week now and even though I have retraced our steps and not found her, I know she’s still there, hidden among the roots of the olives, figs and sun-parched fennel. My kids reckon she’s probably in Heraklion or even Albania, but I feel her presence closer. We were constant companions; we ate, drank and slept together. She knew so much about my world and was generous in sharing her knowledge of new places, people and things. She was a shining light, spoke many languages and was so easy to understand. I was proud of her, she gave me confidence and she was so damn cool and stylish. Slim, blonde and American.

Of course, I reported it to the local police. They took down her details but said it was unlikely I would see her again. For days I kept reaching out for her, wanting to share a special moment of my holiday – the sunset over the White Mountains, the cats playing in the taverna at the beach. I wanted to ask her about the tiniest things – the weather forecast, what time we were meeting at the restaurant, the name of the new wild plant I discovered; even what dress I should wear to my friend’s wedding in September. At the beginning, without her I felt abandoned and alone, as physically sick as if a limb had been torn from my body.

But there’s only so long you can mourn the lost of an iPhone 6 and I’ve read five books this holiday so far…

 

Elaine Kingett runs writing workshops in the UK and writing, walking and meditation holidays in Spain. As part of the Toast Curates programme, Elaine will be running a couple of creative writing workshops at stores in Harrogate and London, further details HERE.

 

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I was walking up a dirt track in Crete when I lost my friend. It’s almost a week now and even though I have retraced our steps and not found her, I know she’s still there, hidden among the roots o…