ECHO 28/11/05

Control Tower – we are led to believe he sits up there alone – his name: Stan – face illuminated by a single strip light and the quiet green glow of the control panel – he gazes out onto the empty airfield waiting - for what? – he drinks sweet tea all night long and reads the newspaper three times over – he tests the landing lights once a night, this takes ten minutes in all from powering up to powering down again – it is at this stage in his routine that he usually spies a Barn Owl flitting out from one of the abandoned Nissen huts at the north edge of the airfield toward the security compound where the mercenaries are trained.

She wakes nervous, on unfamiliar territory once again. The man beside her is no longer her lover, for today he has become an irritant – his presence is inconvenient, seemingly a physical and mental obstacle. She craves space in order to gather her thoughts, possess herself and no longer be an object either of desire or conversation. Neither would bring her solace or relief. When she disrobes to bathe, she discovers the man’s grateful hands upon her but shirks them. She can’t get into that. Not today. Today is too important, it is diverting. It worries her but at the same time she fortifies herself, repeating that it is a necessary aspect of her job. She does not notice the impact of her rejection on her lover or the shrug he gives as he makes for the kitchen to brew his usual coffee (thick, black, brewed on a stove-top). She doesn’t believe it is a permanent thing as she watches his bare back retreat. She ignores the little temptation in her belly. There is too much at stake beyond the four walls, for later in the day.