Extract From Grave Walker
I snapped awake from the dream. Or was it a nightmare?
The squeal of the aircraft landing gear tugged me from my thoughts. Last thing I remembered, I had been staring out the window, half a miniature bottle of whiskey shy of being drunk, when I must have drifted off. The cry of rubber on runway had been a rude awakening.
The light streaming through the oval window seemed hollow and sharp here, causing me to squint. Back in London, it would have been softer, more welcoming.
Or maybe I’d indulged in a few too many drinks during the flight and imagined it. The Jack Daniels and Coke mixtures I’d been making had become more Jack and less Coke the closer I got to the States. Perhaps I was anxious about returning to where it all began and seeing the faces of my pa
