Yesterday, our passports were returned to us, along with our Indian visas - the DX courier had rung me on his mobile, his words almost drowned by spooky static - the Sat Nav had taken him over the level crossing, up into Highwood, amongst the dark firs -
I had to go out to find the courier - he had dreadlocks and was wearing a bright green tee shirt - he gestured towards the level crossing gates - I got lost, stuck on the other side of the line - that guy there, he saw me, yet he said nothing - I guessed that Big Bob had been on duty at the level crossing -
In my Visa photograph, I'm glowering at the camera - Jay said - you look like Molotov - I imagined myself, watching Charlie Chaplin films in the Kremlin, signing warrants -
My passport photograph is not much better - when we were in Herceg Novi, Goran, our driver had looked at it - he smiled his cruel smile - is criminal! -
Later Goran told us that Montenegro was the stolen car capital of Europe - you will find your car, outside my house -
No comments:
Post a Comment