Back at the gym, I gaze out of the window. Darkness falls and the gym ceiling lights are reflected in the glass: throwing yellow oblongs on the slate grey sky. On the television screen, a flock of cranes take off and glide past a mountain range. Must be Natural World. Here’s a polar bear. Maybe it’s the Alaska programme that I watched an episode of with Seb.
Ahhhhh Seb. It’s all very well having achieved some success with my great love, but he’s not here and I don’t know when I’ll next see him. May have to wait weeks or even months before we are together again. And so now I feel even less like going on first dates with randoms than I did before. The frozen wastes of time until I see him again stretch out before me, limitless.
You are probably wondering what has happened to MediaChap. Well, he’s working this weekend and we’re meant to be meeting next Wednesday.
“When I was 16 I always wanted to meet a raven-haired beauty with whom I could have meaningful convos,” MediaChap messages me on WhatsApp. “The girls were so uncultivated. No knowledge of plays or zoo animals.”
On the television, a bald eagle lands in the snow, pounces on a dead creature, takes off again, drawing her huge talons up to her tummy. A moose appears from the woods and stands there as the snow falls all around him. In a burrow underground, a fluff ball sleeps. A squirrel maybe, probably a rodent of some kind. An arctic fox spies a polar bear and her cubs and watches them, but mother bear chases him away, loping with long strides, striking the ground with enormous paws.
Outside the sky turns a deeper blue.
A polar bear cub climbs up his mother’s back. It’s sunset in Alaska and there the sky is pink, orange and lilac as the bears tramp across the frozen wasteland in search of food.
*a play by Harold Pinter. Read it…