Mind bondage-2

Doors popped open and we all trooped out through open wooden double doors to what appeared to be a single large room inside the “barn.” I felt myself relax at the sight of carpets and cushions in cool soothing colors arranged in various sized groupings. There was a sideboard laden with food and several urns, probably coffee though I didn’t smell any. There was a central light hanging down and brightly illuminating only the center of the room, which would explain why I didn’t notice Mr. Mendoza in the back of the room until he stepped forward and greeted us.

“Welcome ladies. For the first part of our retreat, we will be in a large group. Please find your name card and have a seat here,” he gestured to a semi-circle of cushions and trays directly under the light.

Looking at him, a cliché came to mind immediately. He was tall, dark and handsome. His voice had a light trace of an accent, but was clear and articulate. It was the kind of voice that a news anchor might have, authoritative, persuasive and trustworthy. For the first time, I really believed that this might have been a good idea.