The morning-after thrill

The man with the dark, flashing eyes. 

PART 2 OF 2

Many words have been written about the promise a sunrise brings. A new beginning. A new day. A fresh page. A clean slate.

Those things are true. 

But I’m a sunset girl. 

For me, sunsets are all the things sunrises are and more. A sunset gives the power of reflection along with the promise that a new beginning can happen with lessons learned the next morning. My Sahara night sky full of stars; the reward for a Sahara sunset; my tentative connection with the man with the dark, flashing eyes — those belong to the night.

The sunrise in the Sahara called, though, and I answered. I left my tent softly but confidently, ready to accept the promise of the day, of the sun rising to bring the sky to life.

As I walked the path, a mix of hard earth and soft sand, I headed to the outskirts of the camp. I sat on a dune, head thrown back, face to the sky claiming my rightful position as sultana of my world. Knowing my choices for my life — mine alone — will allow me to chart my course in the direction of my choosing.

As the sky sprang to life, I began to wander towards my tent. In front of me, the man with the dark, flashing eyes stepped into view. Morning greetings were exchanged. “How did you sleep?” I asked. He waved his hand. "Not great.” And those smoldering eyes, the eyes I could get lost in, looked into mine with meaning.

He arrogantly lit a cigarette, smoke escaping his lips, drifting skyward. I had no words for him. My choice to be alone was the right one for me. With nothing but goodbye to say, I uttered the words and headed to my tent to finish packing my luggage.

When my task was complete, I took my bag to the gathering area. Without a thought, he went to pick up my bag and joked: “Do you have a camel in here?"

Disbelief and humour washed through those eyes but humour won out when he heard my laugh and saw my smile.

He loaded my bag and then walked with me to the camel caravan. Side by side, the two of us walked the small dune. At one point, those eyes connected with mine. "You are beautiful," he said. “You are beautiful,” I responded. Because he is.

As is his nature in a crowd, he boldly assigned camels and, with only the lead one left, he told me I was walking. My group laughed. I laughed. He knelt down in the sand and offered me a knee to boost me onto my ride.

Then he left, leaving us in the hands of the camel master. I watched him walk away and could not fathom why this man captured my attention, why he stirred something deep inside of me that made me want to know him more.

Our camels arrived at the meeting station and he helped me off. We each knew where the other was at all times but, like a cat and mouse, we circled each other, toyed with each other, keeping distance, keeping awareness.

I got into his truck and sat immediately behind him. Without hesitation, he angled his rearview mirror, so his eyes could seek mine … constantly…. boldly. He connected with the other occupants but we were aware of each other. And in the short time it took to get to our destination, those glances put me under a spell which made it almost impossible to look away. I did not want to look away.

After he finished unloading our luggage into the bus, I requested a picture with him. And we posed together in a humorous stance. The photo showed those eyes to be smiling, just a little. As we prepared to depart, I said goodbye to him. This confident, sometimes arrogant, man shyly asked if I was on WhatsApp and if he could have my phone number.

Without hesitation, I typed it into his phone. And said goodbye again.

I haven’t heard from the man with the dark, flashing eyes … yet. And maybe I never will. What he left behind was a woman who’s learning she may have powers to attract, to be desired. A woman who’s discovering that it’s OK to be smart, funny and sexy.

It’s beautiful to be me.