His voice came over the line between the rings. “Listen carefully and don’t speak. They took them away. They are not longer here. They are at 11 Decency Gate.” He was breaking up. I yelled, “Who took them? What is the number where I can reach them?” But he was gone amidst the crackle between the rings. The man on the phone sounded just like Gordon, but how could that be? Who was he?
Somehow, I knew that 11 Decency Gate was in Amsterdam. The thought that people had taken my sister and Gordon against their will twisted in my gut. In a panic, I dialed 0-1-1 for the international operator but when I heard the operator’s accented voice, the line went dead.
I woke up.
no.
you only *think* you woke up.
well, darling…YOU are the writer in the family. i did try to give this to you since i thought you could do something with it…i mean the number 11 (illuminati) – decency – gate???? how full of possibilities is that?
Amsterdam
Dear Linda,
Listen to Jacques Brel’s song
Amsterdam.
Thanks for the comment and for adding the link to my blog. I’ve added a link to yours!
Ah! We bloggers have now revealed ourselves to each other!
Bises.
-Barbara
http://www.compulsivereader.blogspot.com/