Thurs. 8:45pm
After the side to side bouncing we experienced when we came into the lock this morning, I was expecting the same from the five locks that help river traffic overcome the 100m or so difference in water level created by the Three Gorges Dam. Instead, as we enter the first lock we seem to float exactly where we ought to, between the lock wall and a coal barge, as we wait for the doors to clang closed behind us and for the water to rise. But the doors don't clang shut. I don't even notice that they have shut until I see the water level is changing. And then the unearthly screech of metal on metal begins, calling to mind ghost stories and horror films and ear plugs. But it does not last long - 15 minutes at most - after which the door in front of us opens silently and we glide into the second lock.
Jayne and I had decided to blow off work and talk about men in a way we never would have done when we were younger and more responsible. (Actually, our bosses had pre-approved the vacation time if not the conversation, but I like to think that after sensible teenage and young adult years, we still have a chance of turning into carefree middle aged rebels.) Jayne was sharing with me the surprise some people had expressed when they learned she was getting divorced and how that had opened her eyes to the compartmentalization in her life; in this case, that her marriage had been slowly deteriorating but she didn't talk about this with anyone - even close friends. I asked Jayne how many "boxes" she had. "5 - 1 for work, 1 for family, 1 specifically for my ex, 1 for Christian friends, and 1 for non-Christan friends." As she finished, I saw myself 6 months ago. I was having morning coffee with a friend and my phone beeped its daily 9 am reminder....
Comments
Post a Comment