|
From: | Pich Coffelt |
Subject: | Re: waif occur |
Date: | Mon, 19 Dec 2005 08:07:21 -0500 |
L
A P X V C V M S e
m r a i i A e o v
b o n A A L r m i
i p a G L i i a t
e e x R i U d r
n c A S M i a
i a a $9
$6 $6 $1 $6 $9 $8 $9 $7 9.95
8.00 4.95 23.45 9.95 9.95 5.45 9.95 5.95 They approached a large glass-enclosed cubicle with a sign on the
left window, the gold letters announcing the occupant: DEPUTY DIRECTOR
OF IMMIGRATION SERVICES. The attractive clerk opened the door and, again
smiling, gestured for the elderly visitor to go inside. Prefontaine did
so, suddenly terrified that he would be searched, the money found, and
all manner of charges leveled against him. He did not know which islands
were involved in narcotics, but if this was one of them the thousands of
dollars in his pockets would be instantly suspect. Explanations raced
through his mind as the clerk crossed to the desk handing his passport
to the short, heavyset deputy of immigration. The woman gave Brendan a
last bright smile and went out the door, closing it behind her.
Mr. Brendan Patrick Pierre Prefontaine, intoned the immigration
official reading the passport. |
[Prev in Thread] | Current Thread | [Next in Thread] |