Mahogany Red
A Tale About The Man I Live With
We are done with our daily 5 km walk, and we are at the tender-coconut seller’s when I notice a woman walking by. She has coloured her hair a shade of chestnut-blond.
So I turn brightly to the gentleman who lives with me and ask him craftily, “How do you think I would look if I coloured my hair a shade of red?” He chokes on his coconut water, and I pat him kindly on the back, before elucidating, “You know, a shade of mahogany red? How do you think I will look?”
By then he has already looked around from side to side like a hunted animal, but he has to pay the coconut seller, and anyway, how far can he run? He keeps the coconut down and says, deadpan and poker-faced, “You will look like a woman with red hair.”
And he turned away with studied nonchalance, to pay the coconut seller. After which he began slowly walking forward. I closed my mouth, that had dropped open in shock and awe, and followed him.
So much for me being a language teacher able to think on my feet.
The sun shone today.
Come out for a walk, before you are locked up again.