Morton Bay's Anonymity-Personal Narrative

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“Anonymity” They agreed to meet on a Sunday morning near one the giant Morton bay fig trees that grew in a wonderful chaos of buttress roots and spreading limbs. She lived in a soulless city. Skyscrapers towered above apartments and parks, casting shadows on the life of those that lived within it. She sat alone in a softly lit corner of her small apartment, decorated in the starkest of minimalist styles - as pristine and clean as the modernist art gallery where she worked. Everything in her apartment mirrored her life. Everything was clean and precise, even the books in her library were afraid of lying out of place. Occasionally, the order of her world was disturbed as a piece of breeze-blown fluff, scuttling across the polished floor boards, searching for sanctuary. She had achieved so much in her short life, except lasting love. Her relationships were fleeting, except for…show more content…
It was a sultry Sydney day, when she stepped out to walk the short distance to the park, for the meeting. Her simple summer dress, complimented her modest personality. She wore a white scarf, a means of identity. He had described himself as a tall man, with blue eyes and auburn hair, but she did not need a physical description and knew that she would know him on sight. The park was a popular meeting place. As she stood beneath the Morton Bay fig tree, she fought to keep the doubts about the meeting at bay. She watched a young woman stroll by, pushing a pram; early morning joggers, sweating and puffing their way up the rise in search of nirvana. An old man and woman walked arm in arm, each comforted by the other’s presence, lost in their own private realty. She looked at her watch. He was late. Doubts chewed and chomped at her confidence. Would he turn up? Could she go through with the meeting? The day was becoming warmer and she more nervous. She wished she was back in her sanctuary and pulled the scarf

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