My Bread Crumb Trail

It appears that I might officially have a stalker.

On Sunday, as I was walking back from the market, wondering why I had been stupid enough to buy a large melon as well as enough broccoli to sink a ship, and enough tomatoes to drive a hoarse opera singer from off the stage, a motorbike passed me. On it was the man I met last week who dumped his kid by the side of the road so that he good try and persuade me to go to Peroulia with him: he beeped, and I pretended not to see him.

I headed to the path from the village; it leads across the top of the valley and down to the sea and my cottage. It is very secluded, and very beautiful - it is like a magical path in a fairy tale that leads to the witch's cottage.

Not MINE. A real witch.

In fact, I was thinking the other day that, if someone was so inclined, my body could be dumped over the path's edge. down into the valley, and I am pretty sure I would never be found again - it really is so densely overgrown.

Letting my mind wander along those cheerful thoughts, I walked along, enjoying the Sunday morning quiet, when I heard the put-put of a motorbike coming up behind me.

I didn't want to know who it was, but I did. I sure did.

"Moped?" he nodded to the back of his bike.

I shook my head. He rode beside me for a little ways, smiling and nodding.

"Moped?" with a wheedling note thrown in.

I shook my head again, and he took off.

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I have stopped saying "no" in any situation, because it is too close to the Greek word for "yes" which is "ne." And I can never remember what the Greek word for "no" is, so I find myself just shaking my head.

In a weird type of way...."I'm just a girl who can't say no...."

Name that musical. And then name the T.V. show that featured it.

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Yesterday, at Cafe Art, as I was having a coffee and writing away in my journal, he drove by again. He was immediately called over to the cafe across the street, and so joined a group of friends there.

I put on my sunglasses, wiggled down into my chair, and sort of tried to cover my face with my ever expanding bush of hair.

I don't know what I thought that would do....maybe at the very least make me look completely unapproachable.

Every time I looked through my hair curtain, he was looking over.

But, he did leave without putting in a third request. Either he didn't want to humiliate himself in front of his friends, or my assertive nature finally made its mark.

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However, if I disappear suddenly, you know who to ask. And you know where to look. I am leaving you a generous bread crumb trail.