Today during uni study, I was asked to write a short piece of creative writing. The only stipulation was that incorporated the line ‘Wait for me at the olive oil’, a line from a verse by Menander. It could be no longer than 150 words. This is what I wrote.
The day was very bright and warm. Midsummer. The location? Taormina, Sicily. A place he visited often, but for me was the first encounter. I sat in a small, secluded garden. Several lemon trees surrounding me. I sat, eyes closed, inhaling the scent of them. My mouth salivated from the strength of the zest of the lemons upon the branches. Not only was it midsummer but mid afternoon. The shade of a tree was my solace from the glaring sun. The subtle glaze of sweat upon my forehead cooled by the gentle breeze that floated through the garden.
We were to meet, he and I. Refreshed by my few moments of shaded solitude, I moved onwards in search of the nearby orchard. “Wait for me at the olive oil,” he had instructed me. I had never anticipated the sight of an olive tree orchard in all my days on earth.
I really enjoyed uni study today.