As he finished undressing he reached under the bedclothes for his nightwear and remembered the scrawled message of earlier in the day. Extraordinary! ...e must have imagined it! As he stood there, he noticed the curtains move and felt a draught of cold air. The window must have opened somehow. He was about to go and close it, when the curtains moved again and it was obvious that someone was standing behind them. A hand poked through - a tiny feminine hand. It was the sweetest hand he had ever. They had just discovered that the buildings in a foreign city look somehow different from those at home. To a passer-by they looked every inch American tourists, from the clothes they wore, the way they walked, the way they stared at the most everyday things, like a Tuareg passing by riding a bicycle, or children speaking Arabic. They made a pleasantly contrasting pair, Laura was a tall a thin blonde girl, evidently striving as many young Americans did, for the Barbie look. Her breasts did not. More

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