Image Carriers. Genel Anthony

high and firm and gave the impression that it was somehow alive, protecting its inhabitants with its sheer dominance and ever-changing moods.

      High above the ocean, along the snaky road hugging this world-famous mountain, two young and very attractive women laughed loudly while singing out of tune to old songs blaring from their hired car’s radio. They had especially chosen the little red car with a sunroof, as they thought it reflected their youthful personalities. The dawn had taken them to secret lookouts along the mountain and ocean routes, and they had happily taken photos of everything that harboured natural beauty. They were now on their way back to their beachfront hotel in Camps Bay.

      As they drove along the sometimes zigzag road, they could see the sheer cliff face cut out of the grey mountain, climbing upwards into the clouds. On their left was a sheer drop to the angry Atlantic Ocean below. Along the seaside of the road, along the gravel’s edge, clumps of grass and sad-looking wild flowers hung on desperately, as the turbulent currents from below tried to uproot them.

      The attractive blonde at the wheel was in her twenties; twenty-eight to be precise. She uttered with an accent that was not local, giving the feeling that she was a tourist. She was currently visiting a family friend in a little known town about a two hour drive by car from Cape Town. Her new best friend, sitting in the passenger seat, was a local stunning, skinny African young adult female who had recently turned twenty-two. She lived with her family, who ran a rundown shop in the town her friend was visiting. They had quickly become best friends, as the obscure little place didn’t have many inhabitants, and they found they had a great deal in common.

      They had planned their exciting trip nearly a month earlier, booking a wonderful hotel in the bay area of Cape Town. They wanted to go out and dance and have fun, and they did. They also hired a car to visit all the coastal beaches and gardens and mountain retreats and took hundreds of photos for their memories. Feeling overwhelmed with all the excitement and unimaginable scenery, the driver suddenly shouted out, “I want to remember this for the rest of my life!”

      Her friend joined in, “Me too!” and they both laughed out loud.

      The road was quiet, with not much traffic, so the driver only half-focused on her driving. She just had to ensure that she stayed within the lanes; otherwise they could easily topple over the cliff into the wild ocean below. As they sang together to another well-known song, the car suddenly jerked forward, throwing the unsuspecting passenger out of her seatbelt, against the front dashboard, knocking her face with a jaw breaking blow. The driver screamed out, trying to control the car, as it picked up speed on its descent down the mountain. The young African woman was trying to stop the blood gushing from her nose and mouth while she hung on, shouting in agony for the driver to stop the car!

      Trying instinctively to keep the car from racing over the cliff, the driver quickly realised that the brakes were not working; she tried turning the wheel towards the mountain, so the car wouldn’t drop into the sea below, which caused the little red vehicle to quickly spin around. There was a loud, sudden bang as a tyre or something exploded, instantly removing all control from the driver. She could only watch in horror as the car sped towards the mountainside, smashing into the hard grey cliff, with a dreadful sound, causing the car to spin violently around before toppling over and landing on its roof, upside down, coming to a halt in the middle of the road.

      Both women were bleeding and injured, and the driver moaned in pain, looking over to her mangled friend who had come clean out of her seat belt and was resting on the ceiling near the sunroof. Through the sunroof, she could see broken glass shattered on the road; her unmoving friend looked seriously injured or already dead. From the nook of her eye and through an open section of the broken door window, she could pick up a large dark coloured vehicle briefly stopping as it came round the bend. After a few seconds, or maybe longer, as the injured driver was dropping in and out of consciousness, she suddenly heard what sounded like scraping noises. She then realised that the automobile was moving along the road and making a high-pitched grating and ghastly sound.

      As the driver hung awkwardly in her seatbelt, upside down, she watched the road slide by through the open and damaged sunroof. She knew the car was sliding towards the sea. It would just be a matter of moments before they went over the cliff…

      In the southern hemisphere, on the other side of the globe, on a big island with golden sands, surfing beaches and hopping marsupials, lived Adam Green, who was in his early forties, in Sydney, Australia. He is a business coach and counsellor with a successful private practice, working with the corporate sector and also seeing private clients for general mental health concerns. Adam is single and enjoyed it; he shared his house with a youth who had become his unofficially adopted son. They lived together on the lower north shore of Sydney, about a fifteen-minute drive from his office in the city.

      That morning, the alarm clock rang as it did every morning at 6.30 am. It had been another cold night, and the morning was even colder, or at least Adam thought so. He gingerly climbed out of bed, his lean body limp, as if drained of vitality, as he made his way to the bathroom. His thinning, short dark brown hair was another sign that his youth was behind him. He still had the chiselled features that made him striking too many women. He was tall and had to bend over to catch himself in the small wall mirror to examine his greying side burns, wondering if he should just pull them out or dye them to match the rest of his hair.

      He headed into the kitchen to have a quick snack before leaving for work. The familiar smell of burning toast engulfed his senses as he walked down the hall; his youthful friend was up and had the radio blaring in the kitchen, burning his toast as usual. They grunted morning greetings to each other. They did not speak much in the early mornings. Adam poured his tea and gave the youth a disapproving look, as he did nearly every morning. Adam felt that the young man did not dress appropriately and disliked the idea of having his hair sticking out everywhere, looking untidy and wild. Though Adam disapproved, he long ago gave up nagging him to get a haircut.

      Adam left the house and drove to work, as he did every morning. It was a cold autumn day and the harbour city was well into its routine. Traffic jams were everywhere, and the radio announcer on his car radio warned drivers about gridlock, car accidents, Lorries stuck under bridges and so on: just another day in Sydney.

      Adam’s office was in the city centre, and he was really happy with his long-term and dedicated receptionist, Carol. She organised his clients and ensured that things worked smoothly in the agency. Adam had been practising as a business and mental health consultant for many years, and his practice had grown over time. He had a good reputation and many people came to him for guidance, support and to use his special room that had become famous among his clients and associates. It is said that tired and stressed individuals entered the De-Stress Room and upon their exit looked like new people; refreshed, stress-free and happy. New clients often commented about the room and secretly wondered how they could acquire access. Many privileged individuals booked the room regularly and thought that it worked wonders for their stress levels, and some actually claimed it made them appear younger!

      Carol loved her job and was fondly protective of Adam. She considers him a very good friend. She was also in her forties, late forties, about seven years his senior. She took her role seriously and acted as if she owned the practice. Nothing or no one would get past her unless she said so. Carol had become even more devoted to her job after she experienced some problems in her personal life with her now ex-husband many years earlier. Adam was very supportive and gave her as much time off work as she needed back then. He sympathised with her plight, as she and her young daughter had to find emergency accommodation after her marriage took a turn for the worse. Since then, she always said she would never forget what Adam did for her and her daughter and the unconditional support he gave to them during that time.

      On this day, one of Adam’s regulars was coming in to visit him. She was no longer his client as such, as he used to work with her in a clinical setting a few years earlier when she was having challenges managing her chronic anxiety and fears. She was initially referred to Adam by her psychiatrist, after spending a short stay in hospital. She told Adam that she wanted to hide from the “big bad world” for a while. Her psychiatrist thought she needed more counselling and support rather than medication management.

      Adam worked with Evelyn