Tuesday Tales: From the Word ICY

Welcome to October and this week’s Tuesday Tales. In my part of the world, the trees had donned their majestic colours. Nights are cool, days are comfortable but shorter, and we all know winter is just around the corner. This week our word prompt is ICY. I’m continuing with Listen to the Stones. Enjoy.

After a twenty-six-hour flight that included a two-hour layover in Doha, Qatar, his senses were slow, dazed, not reacting fast enough, but one thing nagged at him. Why would the stones choose someone for him with no connection to them? Could she have Scottish ancestors? It was possible. The world was a much smaller place these days. Take the heir for instance. She’d been born on the Isle of Lewis but had left it as a child. This woman could’ve done the same. Only the stones knew the truth.

He watched her conversation with the agent and saw her pull out additional documents, but he was too far away to see what they were or hear what she was saying.

When the agent stamped her passport, she rushed off toward the baggage claim. He would catch up with her there. How hard could it be to find a woman wearing an orange shirt with her hair in a ponytail?

He hurried to get to the window and handed over his UK passport.

“Welcome back, Mr. Gillies. Where were you?” she asked.

“New Zealand.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“Business. I’m an archeologist. I was working on a Māori dig.”

He didn’t want to prolong this by explaining about the filming which he knew from experience generated a lot of questions. Still, she wouldn’t let him go until she was satisfied. After answering a few more of her queries, she stamped his passport.

“Sounds fascinating. Have a good day.”

“Thank you, and you as well.”

Grateful that she’d been so quick, he hurried toward the baggage pickup area and looked around for a woman in an orange sweatshirt and a ponytail. Seeing one, he hurried over to the carousel, noting that it was a flight from New York. American. He’d been right. He grabbed the woman’s shoulder and turned her to face him.

The stranger’s icy eyes froze him in place.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized once more. “I thought you were someone else.”

He hurried away before she called security on him. Looking around the crowded room, his spirit plummeted. There wasn’t another orange sweatshirt anywhere.

It was true that he was tired, but he couldn’t have imagined her, could he? As a rule, he didn’t daydream, but given the way he felt, anything was possible. Sighing, he walked over to the carousel currently displaying the bags from his flight.

That’s it. Stay safe, and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.