She conjured up an image in her mind, of herself swimming, doing breast stroke, then crawl, in water with little waves.‘Yes.’ She felt an image of...Cyan swimming, in her head. Breast stroke. Wow. She gave a pleased feeling back or tried to.The English-speaking captain was waiting at the disguised gate back into Cuba. “Not all your young friends?” He looked closely at Mo and Zara in the lights of the jeep.“They have moved her, my daughter,” Zara’s head was at least clear enough to speak her. She had of course told me about the beauty of her country land, regaled me with her countries rich history and sent me pictures of places she had visited just to share a part of herself with me. I had not told her that I was coming to Scotland because I knew how excited she’d be. I made arrangements for two train tickets from her town to another up in the whiskey distilleries at a lovely bed and breakfast for the both of us. When the plane had landed I gathered up my bags from the baggage claim. More

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