by davidroseveare_r17j33 | Apr 10, 2019 | Read
January 2005, the Indian Ocean, off the coast of Indonesia “There must be some explanation,” insisted Sarah. Terry Gunn said nothing, preferring to focus on the images on the screen of his laptop. When he reached the end of the video he’d filmed, he looked up as if...
by davidroseveare_r17j33 | Apr 10, 2019 | Read
The navy had choppered most of the media contingent to a local airfield from which one of its C130 Hercules transport planes could deliver them back to Singapore. Sarah and Terry checked their meagre baggage and sat outside the tiny terminal. It wasn’t a hard...
by davidroseveare_r17j33 | Apr 10, 2019 | Read
“Come in, Terry,” said Sarah. He did. She was sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, her phone on the coffee table in front of her. He struggled to get a read on what she was thinking, or how the call may have gone. “Chickened out, have you, girl?” Sarah gave him a...
by davidroseveare_r17j33 | Apr 10, 2019 | Read
As they queued for immigration at Los Angeles International, Sarah recalled the Andrew Lloyd Weber song “Another Suitcase Another Hall.” Yeah, it may be another airport, another crowd, and another customs hall, but at least I still have the same old suitcase. After 25...
by davidroseveare_r17j33 | Apr 10, 2019 | Read
Terry got up from his comfortable chair to answer the door. He saw pretty much what he expected: an elderly, somewhat scholarly man, at least six inches shorter than he, but just as thin, with a giveaway fleck of white at his neck under his heavy coat. “Good evening...
by davidroseveare_r17j33 | Apr 10, 2019 | Read
6:34 a.m. local time. Terry arose to find Sarah fully dressed and sitting at the small writing desk, tapping away on her laptop. This was the reverse of their normal routine of her needing convincing to rise and greet the new day. “Hey, girl, you’re up early. Wassup?”...
Recent Comments