My younger brother’s best friend was Tom Ferris. They met in Provincetown. Michael was sunning on Race Point Beach. A beautiful speedboat anchored close to shore. My brother told his friends that he was going to swim out to see who owned the boat. Tom greeted my brother with open arms. Michael’s nickname was ‘Aquaman’ to Tom, who survived my brother by a decade. He joined the ranks of the missing some years ago, which was why I was surprised to received an email from him this morning. It wasn’t from the grave but London.
I’m sorry for this odd request because it might get to you too urgent but it’s because of the situation of things right now, I’m stuck in London, United Kingdom right now. I came down here on vacation, i was robbed, worse of it is that bags, cash and cards and my cell phone was stolen at GUN POINT, it’s such a crazy experience for me, i need help in sorting out the hotel bills, the authorities are not being 100% supportive but the good thing is i still have my passport but don’t have enough money to pay the hotel bills and get back home, please i need you to loan me some money, will refund you as soon as I’m back home, i promise.
I haven’t responded to this plaintive plea.
Somehow I feel it’s a fake.
GUN POINT?
London?
What does sound right is that the authorities weren’t cooperative.
Looks like this other Tom Ferris is going to stuck in purgatory for the time being.
Sorry.
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https://www.mangozeen.com/2010/03/17/fiction/queen-of-the-plaza-by-peter-nolan-smith.htm