The Map of Other Places

‘Here,’ Sandy said, taking a small roll of cloth from under her pillow. Her naked breast stroked my cheek as she sat up beside me. I kissed her nipple as it brushed past my face. ‘This is where we’ll begin.’

Sandy unrolled the cloth, laying it out across my chest. She sat cross-legged and naked next to me. Her finger pressed down on the cloth. By craning my neck, I could see that she was pointing to a spot on what looked like a map, but it was not a normal map; with roads, rivers and towns, but a series of shapes overlaying each other with twisting trails between them. It looked, as I stared at it, as thought he shapes were shifting over each other, but I just put that down to the awkward position of my head and - maybe – the movement of my body underneath the map as I breathed.

‘Come on, Phil, let’s go,’ Sandy said, jumping up from the bed and pulling her clothes on with one hand, whilst throwing my scattered clothes at me.

‘Why now? Where?’ I said, pulling my trousers on and then shrugging myself into my shirt.

‘Now is a good time,’ Sandy said, rolling the map back up and tucking it into her bra under her shirt. She reached out a hand and I took it, expecting her to head for the door to her room. Instead she turned to face the wall opposite the door.

‘Where do you think you are going,’ I said.

‘Through here,’ she said, gesturing towards the wall with her free hand.

‘You’re going to walk through the wall.’ I laughed.

She turned to look at me in a way that stopped my laughter. ‘Yes, Phil, I’m going to walk through the wall.’

Then she did.