She and Melville spent a relaxing couple of days of sightseeing, and amassed a quota of souvenir pottery and textiles. Now, as per schedule, they were to make the trek to the temple, retread that path she had taken with Hudson, and carefully noted – more assured, better equipped with plasters for sore feet. A rickety bus carried them along a rutted dirt track to the hill path.
Apparently the temple had recently been used as a backdrop for a small pop festival – fortunately not big enough to disrupt the decor, though there were some subdued piles of ashes, suggesting camp fires. Now they were set for the supreme ceremony. Selene felt a little strange, carrying a holdall containing her flowing priestess robe on a hiking expedition, but the needs of ritual demanded perfection. As the temple came into sight, she nudged Melville to halt near some dense, prickly bushes.
“I’ve got to get changed” she said.
“You’ve got a great sense of occasion” replied Melville.
Deftly negotiating the bushes’ thorns, Selene felt quite aquiver as her utility hiking gear came off. She had a flash of those cynical souls who might find her ridiculous, or want to put her into a context where she was ridiculous. This was the first time she had worn an exotic robe out of doors. The last major time indoors was when she starred in her school play. Then there was a flashback to her teens, when her heart palpitated as she changed to show herself in the swimming pool for the first time to a boy she fancied.