Holiday from Hell

I was on my way home at last, I’d been counting down the days to my return flight since I arrived.  The ‘Call of the Wild’ was overexaggerated as far as I was concerned. I just could not wait for that blissful moment of sleeping in my own bed.  As it turned out, Africa had different plans for me.

The airport tannoy crackled into life. 

“The flight to Nairobi has been delayed.”

There was a groan from all the passengers.

“More information will follow.”

I looked down at my dust-encrusted attire, I really needed a shower; even I could smell how disgusting I was.  I just hoped that we would be aboard the turbo prop soon. 

“Today’s flight has been cancelled.”

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A different life

I was living the dream, although I didn’t know it back then.  Detached house, two children in public school, a husband with a well-paid job, two cars, flying off to exotic places every summer and skiing in the winter.  How things can change within a few months.

My so-called friends wouldn’t recognise me now, let alone cross the street to talk to me.  It’s the kids who have lost the most though, I realise that.  What with their father committing suicide, our house repossessed, having to leave the school they loved. I keep on thinking back, trying to remember if Clive had been acting differently for the last six months.

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