No time for time

“The Bolivian Rain Forrest!” I was shouting out to myself and to nobody, my voice drowning. “Truly amazing!” We'd just walked through a cave behind the waterfall and under the flow, a hot jungle and jumble of rainbow sounds and water spray opened up and performed wildly. The crazy jangling water, the steam and the vapour, the intoxicating heat and strange foreign coolness of the droplets hanging in the air before plunging into the chasm below and the crashing ceaseless noise. A dense white thunder pouring and churning, burnishing the life out of the smooth rocks, polishing them into glass, foaming and curling down, down into the deep pools and fast flowing channels that pushed the torrent away. My shirt was soaked, my brow wet with sweat and spray and steam. I looked across at Debbie, her combats dark with the water, she was holding her hat, her rucksack on one shoulder. Her eyes glazed with the wonder of the falls and intense sensory experience of being here, caught up in this rare and unfamiliar place. In this place she was even more lovely, the free wildness and energy framed her in a burst of raw power. Our hands touched and she smiled, we both spoke but the words evaporated in the blast furnace thunder of the falls. We mouthed more superlatives. I turned and looked up into the white haze, drops fell like silver bullets onto my face, I caught some on my tongue as the droplets shattered. From the corner of my eye I say a khaki blur, Debbie was slipping, the surface wet and shiny like a machine room floor. My arm reached out, a blind panic and mad scramble, I was spinning towards her but staying on the spot, not really moving. There seemed to be no time for time. I kept turning but only to see that she was gone. Over the edge. There was a huge white gap in the universe and the waters, well they  just kept on tumbling.