A Tourist Again picks up in the immediate aftermath of what Bampy calls “Black Christmas” in my novel Fresh Water…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 16… ________________________________________ Voices poked through the darkness the closer they drew toward the shanty…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 15… ________________________________________ They left that night, though Elizabeth wondered if Andersen was pushing himself…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 14… ________________________________________ Elizabeth was more than reluctant to follow Andersen out of the building,…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 13… ________________________________________ A reluctant, mousy voice spoke muffled through the door. “I’ll leave. I’m…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 12… _________________________________________ It was difficult to find sleep that day. If the corpses in…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 11… ________________________________________ Elizabeth woke to the lapping of wind-stirred water on the rocks outside.…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 10… ________________________________________ The crack of a gunshot wrested Elizabeth out of sleep so violently…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 9… ______________________________________ About a mile or so past the bridge, Route 103 crested the…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 8… _________________________________________ Elizabeth woke to the pounding of bongos in her head, or at…
Continued from A Tourist Again, Pt. 7… _________________________________________ For at least fifteen minutes she stood looking upon the face of…