One Apple A Day #82
“Breathe. Just, breathe.”
She’s whispering, softly. I can hear her breath, in and out. How can she be so calm in this situation? My heart is pounding. I can hear it. It’s beating so loud that I think everyone can hear it.
“Let it go, Jack. Everything will be fine. Just breathe.”
I should be the man. I should be the one keeping her calm. Damn, if I were really a man I would be able to protect us. But I’m not. I’m a just a stupid kid in the body of an adult. And now we are both locked here. And I’m scared. I’ve never been so scared before. This is all wrong. We are just tourists, why are they holding us in this place? Why did they take all our stuff?
I stand up. I need to move. I’m too nervous. She’s sitting on a chair, with the arms gently relaxed on her thighs and the eyes closed. I will never understand how she can meditate in situations like this. Once, she meditated for 15 minutes inside a discotheque. She is so beautiful. Her chest raises and lowers following her breath. She radiates peace. And without even notice it, I find myself standing still in the middle of the room. Looking at her, and relaxing. My heart stops screaming, and my shoulders relax, like if something relieved them from a big weight. And then she opens her eyes, and at the same time the door opens, and the big bold policeman enters the room.