Monday, March 12, 2018


She walked fast, disappearing from view before he could catch up with her. He, the stalker of the world’s famous social activist, an outcast in her Country, an enigma to the rest. There were just too many people walking everywhere, in front, behind, in between, just about everywhere he walked. Almost like they were trying to protect her from his prying eyes and stop his seeking, but he had an obligation to the rest of the world. He had a story to tell and she was an important element for the resurrection of peace everywhere.  The airport was where the eyes and ears of those wanting to chase an émigré kept watch.

“She is leaving tonight, checked into a monastery somewhere Le Midi, will check back with you later.” he hung up before his call is traced. It was his “eyes” from the airport. No name, no identification and no recognition accorded to him. Just his camouflaged voice. These calls are traced through satellite monitoring stations and one had to keep switching channels in between conversations to avoid detection.

He walked faster, past those who blocked his view, pushing some away from his path and saw her enter the checkpoint. For the moment she was safe unless there was someone out there in the midst of her in disguise. Her life very much in demand by the underworld and terrorists, she lived from day to day.

He knew it was time she lived in exile, perhaps with another name, another face and another nationality. He watched her till she disappeared from sight.
He got the call six hours later. A new nun had entered the Italian Monastery now under new surveillance.


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Goddess of Song

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