Walking Company

We were walking down that path that seemed really, to be a narrow white extension along the length of a dense, emerald hedge. He walked between me and the hedge at first, then decided that it was more gentlemanly to put himself on my right - to add buffer to the thin lace of shrubbery that divided the other side of the path and the thick, roaring road.

We walked slowly, or rather, he walked slowly, pausing ever so slightly with each step so we would be abreast. The sunset was filtering through the walls of leaves, deftly nicking our cheeks, our foreheads, our noses. It was a path, it seemed, that was exclusively ours, leading to the bus stop that only we used - an emerald passage tucked away from the rest of the world.

"When I'm walking down this path, you know what's my worst fear?" I laughed in a low voice.

His eyes twinkled with gentle curiosity.

I looked through the lace of shrubs and small trees, "that my bus rolls past me!We're so near, yet so far from the bus stop."

"Oh." He fell silent.

"I thought you were you going to say that you were afraid something might grab and drag you into the hedge."