Prologue 2

An intense expression in the light of the laptop screen. Grey quilted cloud meeting a thin streak of sky across the far horizon. Dim silhouettes of woods and farms, flat fields in a receding blur beyond the double glass window. There is a stern beauty to the long face, the high cheekbones and resolute jaw line. Dark eyes reflect pin pricks of gathered light and about the powerful arrangement of his features there is the slightest suggestion of weariness. A whiter than white shirt, black crew neck sweater and black overcoat, the collar turned high completes the impression. At the next stopping station he reacts politley but nervously when three female co-workers complete his table in a gaggle of high pitched chatter. Only a step change in his typing betrays his irritation at the intrusion, adding to the rolling blanket of words on the screen.

This is the same train, at the same time, to the same place that Joshua   Eliot takes every morning.


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