Crash

Last Saturday, in the middle of the rainy night, we heard a slow, sliding crash. From our upstairs bedroom window, we peered into the dark, fearing that it was the hillside opposite our house had crumbled. We saw nothing.

Zane went down to check and came back about fifteen minutes later. He had a sad smile on his face, shrugged and whispered, "We were lucky tonight. The pergola crashed."

Yes, we were lucky, because some nights, we would be sitting under that very pergola, enjoying coffee, a chat and each other's midnight company.

Lucky, it was not that night.

Still, we were very sad. The pergola was built in the first year we were married. And I remember Zane scoured the neighbourhood looking for wood to do it. The next big problem was to find material for the roof of the pergola. He experimented with many things before he got it right with old, split bamboo.

He installed it while I was away in Sweden and when I came back, I totally loved our pergola. It felt like our own little throne palace from which we would command the rest of our lives.

But now, it is no more. I wonder what we will do next.