After an hour’s meditation, the group do their usual slow walk, around the garden.
I am there, bringing up the rear, one foot placed in front of the other.
Green plastic patio chairs occupy a space near the middle, positioned without pattern.
My preference is for rows.
The irrepressible urge to swear in church, now manifests as a different temptation.
I want to pick up a chair,
Hurl it into the borders, decapitating flower-heads, causing damage to shrubs.
And then another chair, followed by them all.
Instead, I imagine in slow-motion an aftermath of shocked faces turning towards me.
Catching a sudden breath in my chest, I am back.
I chuckle to myself, replaying the sequence several times over.
Also, I am relieved I hadn’t done it.