“This is not goodbye, it’s the start of countdown”, she said softly, pulling up the mask over her exquisite features. Her dark brown eyes held me tight, intensified by the absence of the rest of her face. With that, she turned and began walking across the yellow, dusty car park of the Dead Sea hotel towards the tiny bus.

“She’s beautiful is she not sir?” The hotel porter enquired as we watched her elegantly stroll away. He picked up the small goat that was standing at his feet and kissed it between its ears as he watched her disappear. The kid squealed in protest and the woman momentarily turned.

“She is indeed”, I replied, my eyes fixed on hers.

“I will be fired for sure, letting this little creature into the car park, do you know her, may I ask? ” he was more interested in the answer to his question than his impending fate, such was the magic of the woman.

“Yes, she’s my wife,” I answered simply and the man let go of the kid which fell to the ground and scrambled off towards the herd in the distance.

“May I be so bold as to say, if she was my wife I would not let her leave my side sir,” the concierge uttered, immediately regretting his forward comment.

“You may indeed,” I replied with equal simplicity. I was lost in the memories of the previous 24-hours, the first full day I’d spent with her in three months. A day and night of non stop talking culminating in her crying as I read a Murakami short story for bed.

“How come you’re so perfect?” She’d asked, her voice thick with emotion.

I turned to the young Arab next to me and offered my fist, which he bumped with a look of sheer delight.

“If your manager says anything, refer him to me, OK?” I reassured the young man.

“Yes sir, thank you sir,” he answered bowing his head and bringing his hands together. “It is many years since we saw such an angel and will be many more until we do so again,” he continued, bowing again as he made his way back to reception. I headed for the car as the bus pulled out of the car park in a cloud of dust the colour of turmeric. Sitting in the car, I put my head against the steering wheel which was hot from the mid morning sun. My forehead burned but I held it there as it cancelled out the pain of another goodbye. Then, I remembered her words.

“This is not goodbye, it’s the start of countdown”

“Forty-five”, I said out loud, starting the engine.