Member Poem

Age defiant was this spruce and spirited citizen slinking blithely past the burgundy red doors of her enigmatic dwelling.
Stereotypes made poor text for someone like this.
Her olive skin neatly curved fingers
slid over a scratched carbon black handrail. She, MartinaField,  had only the haziest inkling of what lay ahead this typical Mediterranean day with its samba-infused heat.
Chippings in broad aggregation were much in evidence as Martina heard a sparse crunch underneath  her platform heel sandals.
Gravel size from granule to micro boulder..
The surrounding labyrinth is a paradise to behold with its tulip blooms and spiral footpaths.
Pools that trickled mystically in the morning so enchanting.
The West Himalayan Birch tree with its stunning chalk-white bark provided delicate shade and of course the brand new Mazda  car which her family purchased for her.
Martina had passed her driving test on the umpteenth attempt.
This vehicle was special in other ways, not least its glove compartment.
Martina kept her good luck charms, amulets, pendants, family photographs, assorted diaries, and  designer velvet gloves right here.
A relationship was cultivated with this gift.
Her husband had died two years earlier and the remaining family were abroad.
Most local people her age had long since passed away..
This made Martina wary of mortality when driving down the avenue onto the main road.
For the first time she observed  the
moist- laden shrubs, sun scorched paddocks, hedges with tangled briars and squashed juicy blackberries.
Boys and girls holding hands, rubbing noses, their joyful adolescent giggles as they dashed up country lanes.
Martina had this smirk.
“Better watch that road in front, Martina.
Focus on what you are doing.”
Martina swore it was her husband Alvin’s voice.
“We used to be like that when young.
Even later and beyond.”
Alvin’s sonorous tone again.
“One of your beguiling faults was how your mind wandered rather like your driving.
Those beautiful oyster pearl eyes were always somewhere else. Maybe I was like that too.”
Alvin’s madcap laugh trailing away in Martina’s head.
“How I wish all the family were with me..
I really miss them.” 
Martina thought while the glove compartment rattles.
Suddenly an irate driver yells.
“Watcha doin ….. you fool.
You’re a danger.”
The motorist was of Martina’s vintage.
His evanescent laughter shook her when speeding off.
“Was that Alvin or am I hallucinating?”
She wondered.
Martina squints  at a young lady on her driving test.
“Poor girl.   Hope it doesn’t take as long as I for her to pass.”
Martina mused.
Driving through the bewildering array of roundabouts and junctions she gains in confidence.
But something told her to return home.
Was it Alvin’s influence or intuition?
The other motorists were reckless at this point.
“I’m being directed by something.
I’ll go.
It’s been a good day.”  Stoic Martina sighs.
The return journey was hair-raising.
She was a puppet of an otherworldly force.
A shroud descends as she continues  steadily.
It’s prompt had a familiar ring.
Martina was soon to discover what it was.
The local postman was about to close the wrought Iron gate to her house when she stopped.
“Tom, you have something for me?”
Martina curiously.
The postman handed her a large padded envelope.
It was her daughter’s handwriting.
Martina opened the letter and read it.
Something slipps to the car floor.
“Dear Mother.
We miss you terribly.
Enclosed please find money for a smart phone.
We can see each other on a video call daily.”
Martina’s heart dropped.
What fell to the floor was another page.
“By the way we are coming for Christmas.
Thought you’d love that.
Maybe you’ll meet us at the airport now you’re on wheels.”
At that point the glove compartment opens and the charms, family photos pop out.
Martina cries as she steps on the page!