Aida feels strong, in my mind. I have her appearance – which I don’t wish to share – her fears, the love she has of oblivion landscapes – nothing and no one, sprawl of trees or horizon. A response to the narrowness of her life so far, in which distrust has taken hold and excluded so much.
I know she has done something unkind to a man who respected her, and that she is both sensual and rigid in her ways.
But is she deep enough? Or merely a shallow stream of thought?
I have set out to follow her on her journey to New Mexico and into a new life, but before the details can be carved out, I need to take the same trip. Here’s hoping for a ticket to fly my way.