The best coffee and pastry shop in Adelaide. Mari’s café. Today, Mike was going to ask her out to dinner. Stefano’s, to be precise. A Michelin star restaurant. And dancing at the new club after dinner. They’d show the young folk real dancing, real passion in the steps and movements.

Today, the flirting stopped and the courting began. He didn’t count their youthful attempt at pairing up. Too long ago; they were both inexperienced and heading in different directions. That was then, and this was now. It was time to get serious.

Mike ran his hands down his smartest summer shirt, flattened the silk tie he’d bought in Singapore when on shore leave, and fluffed his white hair the way that first caught her attention. He checked his eyes, put a couple of bright-eye drops in, and checked for flaws, stains or missing buttons in the hall mirror.

That was…

Lost. Again. Moving to a new city was a pain in the proverbial. I’d have to stop and ask for directions. Again.

Why did I do it?

For the job, the career, to keep moving. It wasn’t really about work, just the need to keep ahead of those I didn’t want to see again. Ever. I call myself a wanderer, but if I looked closer, I’d have to relabel it as runner.

What am I running from?

Family. Not everyone loved their family, not every family deserved love. A black sheep needed to stay away when the family and their businesses and activities didn’t fit the general acceptance of the community.

Anything else? Yes, and that’s why I’m hiding in this laneway, waiting for that man to get far enough distant that I can put those running shoes on and skedaddle out of here. He wasn’t the same as the…