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race. The sound is practically thunderous. Oddly, it fills me with a warm glow. I quickly cast it aside, fearing Arlo and Rosamund will notice.
    Rosamund shakes her head. “I shall never understand these humans. They are so competitive with one another.”
    “ Rosamund, this is something humans appear to like very much,” Arlo says, without taking his eyes off the ever-growing crowd which is gathering around the victor. “It appears to make them happy.”
    I’m suddenly bothered by Rosamund’s words. If she thinks this way, then why is she even attending? She doesn’t usually.
    Then a terrifying thought strikes me. Does she know about me? About James? Is that why she is here?
    No, that’s ridiculous. Of course she doesn’t know. She can’t know . . . can she?
    “ Yes, that is an obvious fact,” Rosamund replies, interrupting my inner conflict. “But they are such fickle creatures. I shall never understand them, and I do not wish too.” She waves her hand dismissively.
    I look away, pretending to be distracted by my surroundings, not wanting to be part of this conversation, knowing I no longer share her thought processes. Or did I really ever?
    “ So, Lucyna have you made any new discoveries on your travels?” Arlo asks.
    “ Unfortunately, no.” The lies are slipping so easily from my mouth. I feel as though I’m coated in them.
    “ Well, I have been considering doing the same for some time myself. Next time I shall come with you. If you have no objection, of course?”
    I fix my eyes ahead. “Of course not, Arlo. You are always welcome.”
    “ Time for me to go,” says Rosamund.
    I’m relieved at the conversation break, but not welcoming Rosamund’s imminent departure as it will leave Arlo and me alone and I fear I won’t be able to keep my pretence up for much longer in that circumstance. Why did I not consider how hard this would be before coming?
    Rosamund nods at us both respectively, then vanishes from sight. Momentarily, I find myself wondering where she is going to. Which human will she be taking to Heaven? Unexpectedly, I feel awash with sorrow and I very quickly quell it.
    Arlo begins to walk through the arena and I follow along.
    “ I believe Rosamund is missing out on much learning there is to be done from humans. I find there to be distinctly much more to them than the categorisation she gives them. Do you agree, Lucyna?”
    I can feel his eyes on me, a very surreal experience.
    “ Yes. I am inclined to agree with you, Arlo.” Much more than you realise , I silently add.
    “ And that is why I spend my time with you, Lucyna. We think alike.”
    And you, Arlo, are my friend, my dear friend , I find myself wanting to say, but instead I simply answer, “Yes, we do.”
    My mind is swamped with guilt. I’m sure it is covering me in some obvious way. I glance sideways at Arlo as we walk on in silence, and feel an instant swell of affection for him. It throws me.
    Instantly I find myself wanting to tell Arlo my troubles. They're practically bursting out of me. I want to unburden this guilt I have, rid myself of this internal conflict, seek his advice. Because, more than anything, I want help; I need help.
    But my rash thoughts are quickly dampened as I know I never will, never can. I’m too ashamed and afraid to do so. I know I wouldn’t be able to endure the consequences of my actions.
    I’m all alone in this.
    I wish things would go back to the way they were before I ever saw James. I wish I had never met him.
    But do I really? Do I really want to go back to what now seems an empty existence since experiencing the phenomenon of feelings?
    Do I truly want to walk away from James? Never again see him.
    That thought alone fills me with consternation.
    “ When is your next bring, Lucyna?” asks Arlo, breaking me from my reverie.
    “ Very soon, Arlo. Minutes. You?”
    “ In twenty minutes. I’m going to Thailand. Such a beautiful place –” but I can’t hear him any more, all I can