Monday, February 25, 2008

Karpata

Not so inspired last night. Until I type it here, I suspect it's not even coherent. Let's see...

Jack sat in the shade of the ruin of the plantation house up on the hill overlooking the dive site called Karpata. Since early morning he had sat there watching the trickle of diving tourists gear up and enter the water in pairs. He had thought when driving up from the villa in the pale dawn light that he would conceal his pickup somehow but nearly every dive site he passed had at least one pickup parked there, windows open and no one in sight. On an island this full of tourists, he realized, it was hard to tell why someone was parked where they were. And the number of divers on the island and their habit of independence meant no dive site was empty for long. Sooner or later someone was bound to drive up and park, ready to dive. Jack figured that very randomness was his ace in the hole for staying alive.

Okay, it's not totally incoherent, but even as short as it is, I think it sounds unfocused. Anybody out there?

--Barbara

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