A PERFECT CURE
Quite a few days earlier I fixed to meet my close and dear ones in Cardiff. This intention did not please the Stonehenge spirit that was continuously shadowing me all the time. It subtly changed the minds of the people I would have loved to see or made them unavailable on that day.
My companion, Karin, freed herself from Oslo and joined me. Our Stonehenge coach put us in the centre of the charming city of Bath. Its Roman baths are fascinating. I heard someone pontificating the potent curing properties of the main pool.
Seeing the green colour of its water I was convinced that it is magical and would certainly cure my aching knees. But no one is allowed to enter the pool lest everyone on the Island be cured and the National Health Service would have to close down. Can you imagine how many would be jobless?
You can see me waiting for the moment to secretly slide into the pool unseen. Did I wait too long? I do not recall. I was not there. All I observed was that Karin was frantically looking for me. No trace of me. Finally she gave up and looked around in the square outside. Suddenly she stopped with a broad wondrous smile. She found me completely cured happily riding a tricycle. She loves cycling. She was thrilled to see me follow her example.