Brighter than the Sun

a novel by Rolf A. F. Witzsche

Page 64

Chapter 4: Operation Noah

     Afterwards, while Jennie was trying on bathing suits in a store, I slipped out to a store across the street and purchased a nightgown for her. I hid it in a grocery bag and gave it to her as a "housewarming present," the moment we entered our apartment. She seemed pleased. She smiled and remarked on how 'thoughtful' it was of me, emphasizing the word, thoughtful.

     I blushed and gave no reply. We quickly carried our groceries in and stashed them away into cupboards and closets, and piled the larger items in a corner of the bedroom.

     McTaggert's apartment was not a large place. It had a bathroom, a bedroom with two single beds, and a kitchen/dining-room/living-room combination, nicely appointed. It was situated on the second floor. I barely noticed that it offered a sweeping view of the ocean, with palm trees in the foreground swaying in the wind.

     "We'll be able to see the sunset from the kitchen table," I said to Jennie as I put the rest of the groceries away.

     She was in the bedroom by then, getting the beds ready for our much-needed sleep.

     "There are always beautiful sunsets here," I repeated.

     Actually she was right not to answer. Sunsets mattered little at the moment. We had been on the go for twenty-eight hours, much of it under difficult circumstances. What we needed more than anything in the world, were a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, followed by a proper hot dinner and some relaxation before our next sequence of flights would begin. I was certain that Jennie would want to come back with me, and that we would remain together no matter what happened.

     I kept the windows ajar and the balcony doors wide open for our sleep. It was quiet outside, except for the sound of the wind in the palm trees. We were far from the road. In the background, the surf could be heard. The thing I remembered having loved about the islands, was the gentle breeze of warm moist air that constantly sweeps in from the sea, and the timeless sound of the surf. I remembered that it had always been easy to fall asleep in this wonderful, gentle atmosphere. It certainly was so again.













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Stories about

Being King for a Day

from novels by Rolf A. F. Witzsche



 

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(c) Copyright 1983 Rolf Witzsche

Canada

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