Читать книгу Operation Reunion - Justine Davis - Страница 3

Dear Reader,

Writers are strange people. I say that with full knowledge that I fall squarely in that category. I have a motto that in various forms is espoused by many writers, I’m sure: “It’s all research.” I’m certain of this because of all the tiny bits and images that clutter my mind, making me a wiz at Jeopardy but not so hot at things like, oh, remembering birthdays.

Many of these little bits and images fade over time, but some do not. One day, long ago, I was picking up mail from my post office box. As I went inside, I saw a young man, jaw tight, eyes suspiciously wet, wad up a piece of paper and an envelope and throw them somewhat energetically into a trash can as he stalked out of the building. As I came back moments later, hands full of mail, there he was again. Only, now he was digging through the trash to retrieve that wadded-up letter. He took it to the nearest sort counter and tried to smooth it out, then folded the wrinkled paper and envelope neatly and put it in his pocket before leaving again.

I’ve lived with that image for all these years, wondering what the story was behind it. I’ll never know, but with a little tweaking and some role-reversal, I’ve finally unloaded that image. It’s yours now, and I hope you enjoy the story!

Happy reading,

Justine Davis