A WHISPER Joseph Cohen stared absent-mindedly at the abstract painting on the wall, while Henry continued his monologue about some upcoming financial crisis. If a stranger had to enter the room at that moment and catch him staring at the painting, Joseph would have been mistaken for a vivid admirer of art, which he wasn’t. He just needed something to keep his mind occupied, just so he could divert his mind from the image of that ten-year-old boy constantly playing on his mind. ‘Hey Joseph, are you listening to me?’ Henry inquired. Joseph glared at Henry for a moment. ‘Henry, do you think I came here to discuss the current financial scenario? After all that I’ve told you, do you think this is something so important to me right now?’ Henry let out a sigh. ‘Look Joseph, I know what you are going through. And, the most important thing you…
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“At the Canal Saint-Martin . . .” Leon holds his hand up, attempting to cut off Trevon from saying another word. The pigeons swarm…
Five decades ago with some money borrowed from a few friends I had left my house on a mighty river called Brahmaputra in search…