The Sanctuary

A traveler is deserted by his wife and spends the night in an Irish tavern on a remote island.  He enlists the help of the proprietor during a sleepless night.

     I heard myself snoring and awoke.  My watch read five o’clock and I panicked, and almost fell from the stool. My queasy stomach tensed up.  I paid the bill and dashed outside into the drizzle, racing along the main road.  A slight hangover had slowed me down.  Adrenalin was pumping, that’s for sure.  Rain mist slid from my cheeks as a stray dog chased alongside, barking at my heels.  Bells from a church tower rang, echoing in all directions, muddling my thoughts. Why hadn’t Emily come for me?  She had our cell phone and both tickets.  I envisioned her cursing aloud, reprimanding me.  Our romantic getaway would turn into a prolonged quarrel.  Nasty images of rebuke hampered my strides.

     What had kept us together all these years?  Familiarity, security, established routines, fear of the unknown?  She’d be off to the mainland across the choppy bay waters and I’d be a marooned outcast.  My new status:  Wayward sailor, left behind, AWOL.