Published on: Threads @between.speak, The Nothing in Between Date: 08/03/2024, 11/05/2024
The woman across the chair circle from Joanne stopped talking to draw a long breath through her nose. Her skinny yoga-pant-hugged arse probably had no issues with sweaty thighs on vinyl seat pads on a muggy January Wednesday. A glance around the group showed some frowns, some sage nodding, some wiping of moist palms on cotton lycra.
“I can’t do this”, she affirmed to herself.“What’s that?” Yoga Hermione’s clear voice struck through breathy air.
Oh shit, she’d said that out loud? Options flashed through Joanne’s heat-fogged brain. Polite denial? Feigned self-deprecation? Jovial dismissal? Which way should she play it?
Reaching suddenly for the satchel she had propped by the chair leg, Joanne stood with more vigour than she felt. “I can’t do this,” she repeated. “I know I should exercise more and socialise more, but I also have a crochet blanket at home I need to finish before autumn hits. So I’m going home – to crochet in the air-con while getting up to move around my house every half hour or so.”
Not waiting to filter any responses, Joanne spun, speed-walking out the door and calculating how many steps it might be to the bus stop. Ten minutes later she was sweltering under the metal awning, not even bothering with the steel bench. Someone coughed beside her and she turned to see another 50-ish woman who had also been in the class.
The woman coughed again. “Umm, I live in Brandon, are you anywhere near there? I, ah, maybe we could meet up, do some granny squares? There’s a nice lake with paths and, ah, it’s only worth walking close on dark but I don’t like walking alone. Maybe, uhm.” Her face was staining a strawberry red.
Joanne recognised the nervous awkwardness. “I’m in Brandon too,” she rushed to her conversation aid. “I know the lake. It’s supposed to get down to 24′ by seven tonight. I walk slow though.”
“Oh!” Miss Strawberry breathed with relief. “Me too, like an old dog with bungy legs.” Her smile was gorgeous, like sun on daisies after rain.
“My name’s Joanne,” she returned the smile.“Emma. I knit too.”“I made apple muffins last night,” Joanne offered.Emma’s laugh matched her smile. The bus pulled up. It was air-conditioned, the seats would be cloth and the day was improving by the minute.
Photo by Diego Pontes on Pexels
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