Thursday, 19 January 2012

Oh, Shit.

I turned away.

Eyes shut, teeth clenched, I grimaced, fighting the panic, the desire to bale-out and run. But what to do? I was trapped.
I took a breath, a deep, chest-bursting breath and tried to exhale the fear. It didn’t work. My balls were crawling inside my body for protection and my heart was pounding. Palms were treacherously clammy as I wiped them on my jeans and grinned insanely at the on-lookers.
What could I do? Resign myself to my fate, that’s what and hope my daughter didn’t see this, the evidence of my cowardice. A man can’t show girlish weakness in these situations, he has to show bravery and leadership, to stupidly live up to his off-spring’s delusions for as long as possible.
I sighed. Commitment follows bravado like a depressed lemming. The decisions made, the edge of the cliff and awful reality, appears.
Next to me, she’s unconcerned, full of excitement.
Oh! The invulnerability of youth. Or perhaps that’s her own bravado? Was there behind that confident exuberance the same search for an escape? To avoid, to run away screaming, No! No! No!
No, not a chance. She looked at me and grinned.
“Ready, Dad?”
Ready or not, I was jerked forward as the highest and fastest roller coaster in the world, began its ascent.

No comments:

Post a Comment