A Deserted Love Story...

He met her at the oasis, at midnight of course. He knew a Well Woman when he saw one. "Wotcha doin' getting water at this hour?" he said real smoove-like. She blushed and spilt some down his boot. "Firtht, I gotta get thith bug outa my teeth" she replied coyly as they simultaneously pondered inwardly why the word 'lisp' has an 's' in it. She stood perfectly still as he gently reached over and removed a desert beetle of wondrous shiny black from betwixt her upper incisors. "Thankth, I mean, thanks", she said and she noticed how the moonlight made his eyes shine like the blackness of a wondrous shiny desert beetle. She thought to herself, " What manner of man carries spare toothpicks to the oasis at midnight? Hmmm, could this be… a Well Man?"

Ignoring the creeping cold in his left boot he went all shy and daft and shuffled his feet in the desert sand. She noticed how he was standing ankle deep in sand and seemed to be causing himself to sink even deeper with the odd shuffling movement of his feet. "Ya boots must be uncomfortable", she said, and offered him a pair of sandals from her rucksack and said rather profoundly, "It isn't the mountain ahead that wears you out; it's the grain of sand in your shoe." He considered this pearl of wisdom, there being no mountains ahead, behind, or in any direction at all. "It's just as well there's all night", he thought, "This could take some sorting out." Apart from a couple of lurking sand dunes mountains were scarce in these parts. He considered but immediately rejected dicey puns on the word 'mountains'. After all, she could have been one of those yodeling mountain women he'd heard about from a far-off western province. There was much to be sorted, but they had all night. Tentatively at first, he tried the sandals and to his astonishment they fitted, but then he'd always been easily astonished. She noticed the way the sandals fitted him so well. "Hmmm, this Well Man, could he be... Sanderella?" she thought.

Whilst trying to figure some smoove 'n' casual way to invite her onto his camel he noticed that she was camel-less. So he parked his camel, hefted her water jar onto his shoulder, gently took her hand and said "Where to sweet woman o' the night"? "Over there" she said as she pointed in the direction of the brightest star. And so they set off, just the two of them, and the water, for parts unknown.

The camel, who also had sand in his boots, was relieved to be left behind. He remained and drank from the well and thought to himself, "When called by a panther - don't anther". He was an odd but philosophical camel. Truth was, he had a sort of soft spot for Daft Ol' Well Man and was rather pleased to see him finally heading off toward the dunes with the curvy one. He just hoped Daft Ol' Well Man would know what to do and he also hoped Daft Ol' Well Man knew where they were going. "For what's the point in all that caravanning if there's not a nice lady camel waiting back at the oasis", he thought to himself. Anyway, it was time he looked after himself instead of worrying about Daft Ol' Well Man and it was looking like he could relax a bit now. He caught the pungent aroma of a lady camel on the soft sweet desert air. She was not too far away, probably at the next camp just over that sand dune, in the direction of the brightest star. Fortunately, Daft Ol' Well Man was well known for going in circles so even though he was quite untroubled by any sense of direction it was highly likely he would eventually fall into the same oasis and with good fortune the curvy one would fall in too.

Meanwhile, the curvy one was scarcely breathing for hope was beating firmly alongside her heart. It had been quite a while since she had fallen into an oasis. Little did she suspect that she was in the company of an accomplished oasis faller and as usual he was paying no attention whatsoever to where he was going, being much distracted by the sweet motion of her carriage and her wonderful scent on the soft sweet desert air.

With the camel sent to bed, Well Woman and Well Man journeyed on and with no distractions about, the desert continued weaving it's magic. "Rather chilly, eh?" said the Well Man. "It's like that... in the desert at night", replied the Well Woman. Absentmindedly he took a drink from her water jar. Then, after dipping his fingers he placed some droplets on her lips. It seemed a good thing to do. Then of course, he kissed her. It just sort of followed. Although taken by surprise, but then she'd always been easily taken by surprise, she deftly assessed the situation and responded well with just the softest and gentlest of kisses. And since she didn't run away or club him to the ground with her water jar, he did it again, closing his eyes, tasting her. She tasted lovely. So they put down the jar carefully, not wanting to spill a drop, not wanting to waste anything, and he brushed back her hair and held her face softly. She noticed he smelled of the moon, and of the sand, and of the soft sweet desert air. He kissed her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, her throat, and since she did not seem to mind, he let himself fall. Camel wandered past on his way to the next camp. He glanced at Daft Ol' Well Man and his Well Woman. "Looks like he doesn't need my help anymore" and continued on his determined course in a happy, camel sort of way.

And so out there under the stars, observed by no one but the passing philosophising camel, they found each other. And since they had all night and an entire beautiful desert, they could just fall and fall and fall...

And heeding her wise woman words he was always careful of sand in the boots, so that there would be no more tears and always he was mindful of a happy following and a sharing of instincts. She liked the way he was careful about sand 'n things, how he took his time. He liked how she waited for him, danced with him, led and followed. "He's a fine dancer", she thinks to herself, "He knows the steps. He just had to remember". "She moves most wonderful with and to me", he thought. "She takes by giving, she gives by receiving so that you cannot tell which is which and it does not matter". But mostly he did not think at all; just let the dance take him. It was something they had always known but had sometimes lost… waiting for them to return to knowing that the simplest things can also be the most precious things.

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