A tiny blip in the continuum

The three of us huddled in the tiny space between the two cars and took much-needed drags off of our cigarettes. Even as we were in the shade of the multi-storey carpark, I noticed there were beads of sweat rolling down Terry’s forehead. Two feet away, Eddie took another drag off of his cigarette, having just finished his retelling of how he had made his wedding proposal five days ago; he had taken his girlfriend on a trip to Cambodia and had, on Monday, proposed to her atop Angkor Wat as the dawn was breaking.

Terry turned and stared at me with those pale brown eyes of his. For a moment he did not speak, as though he had on his mind the weighty significance of the day’s moments that had transpired a couple of hours ago and was pondering whether he should ask me how it went.

I wanted to say how happy I really was for them, that they had arrived at this point in time seven months after a most unforgettable wedding proposal he made: Terry had presented a ring at the end of a marathon run they had both participated in, with flowers and camera waiting at the finishing line.

“It was beautiful,” I said. “Hot day, but beautiful. Congratulations again, man.”

He smiled.

“So when is your turn?”

Eddie chuckled. Terry read my expression and gave a glance in the direction of Eddie’s car.

Then, with an unexpected gravity in his tone, Terry said, “Don’t lose this one.”

“I won’t.”

Then it was my turn to smile.