hell? I mean, been fortunate enough to go there? No, not that hell! The other one.

19° 18’36” N | 81° 15’0″ W

In the Caribbean Sea: south of Cuba, west of Jamaica, east of Belize. Shaped like a whale. Grand Cayman. Gorgeous. I went there (gulp!) about 30 years ago. Is. That. Even. Possible? Anywho, it was perfect.

And there’s a place called Hell, with its own post office, so one can mail correspondence from Hell (Of course, I did. Come on!). I don’t know if I’d go there again — the whole island, I mean — because there’s so much more that I’d rather see and experience, but it would be nice.

regardless, looking at oceans and seas

which is a theme of mine in winter (probably of most people who live in frozen or semi-frozen tundras for months), I pondered whether to skip posting about Travel, which I last did in mid-November, until I feel like it, and remembered this place. Then I remembered it is mentioned in A Tale to Tell.

so now I feel like it

This conversation is a draft; will rework it. It’s a tad rough right now, but … it’s hell =).

Adrián shows the stranger a photograph. It is slightly faded around the edges but still beautiful.
“Where is this?”
“Grand Cayman. Behind that building there is hell.” He then hands him another.
“You’ve been?” He stares at the photo.
“To both.”

Sitting there, with hell on his lap, Martin already feels the unsolicited advice. Besides, hell is not a place, it’s a state. “And came back.”
“More than once.”
He’s about to return the photographs, but there, precariously balanced on his legs, they bring comfort. “Why keep them?”
“Don’t know. It’s the first time I’ve looked at them in years.”

“Remind you of someone?”
“Reminds me of where I’ve taken myself. It’s a tourist stop and good for photographs, but compared to the invisible anguish one can live with, looking at the black and rugged limestone is child’s play.”
Martin places the photographs on the empty chair beside him. “Exactly what I was thinking.”

“Turn. It is simple, yet hard for us to do.”
Martin’s desperately deciding whether to leave his purchase on the counter and take off, or tell this guy—
“Most of us know what we should do, sometimes what we could do, but pull back.”
Something about this guy reminds him of someone.
“I’m dating someone, first real relationship in over five years.”

“How did you two meet?”
Martin laughs. “It’s a bit strange, actually.”
Adrián feels the cell vibrate in his jacket pocket. “Well?”
He laughs again, puts his head down for a few seconds. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t; I just think you wanna talk. Although now I’m curious as hell, figuratively speaking.”
Martin leans forward. They shake hands. “Martin Squire.”
“Adrián Ruiz.” 

A TAle To Tell | Chapter 16

we can travel without moving: the best, or most dangerous, if we so desire, way to go