The sun broke bright through a scowl of clouds. Free to radiate, the sun imbues the circle of Sarsen stone with an ethereal glow. I graze my fingers over the stone and feel a thousand secrets whisper through my skin.
“Aren’t they amazing, Tom?”
“What? Oh, uh, yeah.”
I look over my shoulder and sigh a little too loud. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see Tom tapping away on the Blackberry, oblivious to our location. “Tom, c’mon. You promised.”
“It’s an office emergency,” he mumbled.
“Isn’t it always.”
“Look, if it wasn’t for me getting the Blackler account we wouldn’t be able to afford this ‘holiday’.”
He said holiday like I say Pap smear.
“If it wasn’t for all the ‘Blackler’ accounts we wouldn’t need to be here.” I know Tom’s rolling his eyes even without seeing his face.
I turn to the stone columns and lock my fingertips into the crevices. It’s all I can do to stop myself from grabbing that Blackberry and smashing it. I lean my head against the standing stone and allow it to draw the heat from my forehead.
Even in my anger I can’t escape the awe of Stonehenge. My eyes travel its height and I wonder how it got here, how we got here – to this point? I hate admitting I don’t have all the answers.
I walk through the circular formation unable to comprehend the process that brought these great rocks to be placed just so.
I look back at Tom. He’s head down, fixed in place like a huge lump of granite and I realize that knowing how wouldn’t change a thing. Stonehenge would still be Stonehenge and I’d still be leading horses.
I raise my hand, my fingers whisper a goodbye he doesn’t see.