Chapter Forty-one
After work I wanted to go with Marly to her house, back to her sofa to pick up where we had left off months ago; our unfinished embrace with its raw edges yearned to be smoothed. I didn’t have the excuse that we needed time together to brainstorm a new sketch because the one planned for today’s show had gone unused. What I needed was private time to reflect on the day. I flicked on the radio as I drove home and listened to the news report of our latest bomb threat. Agent Emerson was being interviewed.
“We have voice recognition,” she said. “We believe this is the work of a locally based individual.”
“Do you anticipate an arrest in the immediate future?” asked the reporter.
“No comment.”
At home I chose to ignore my phone messages. Instead, I sat on my sofa and gazed
