A Novel by Rory Tillitson


A New Exercise

Amsterdam a lovely city, full of free-spirited people looking to become someone new or assisting others to be free-spirited, I choose to stay here between exercises because I can blend in, the people I've met here and consider to be my friends have no idea what I do when gone and they have no need for the information.

I sip a strong cup of coffee as I open an email program, there are several junk messages, it amazes me that somehow these show up even though I route through several countries servers to avoid attempts at detection in the unlikely event someone is watching me on-line.

I opened the email, this one looks interesting, "I need someone to take care of a problem, my employer is an elderly man, a tyrant, he makes life miserable to everyone around him, now he is threatening to fire me after fifteen years without benefits, it would be worth one million US for him to go away."

I reply, "Send info to" I run a software trace on the email, it comes from Chicago, an office building downtown, the major tenant is a large investment firm.

I step out of the coffee shop and gaze at a clear blue sky overhead, I think, "Amsterdam is lovely in the springtime... Chicago won't be this nice"

The following day I receive the information, I've sent the account number for the client to deposit half a million dollars in advance. I spend the rest of the day strolling through the neighborhood along the canal, watching young women walk with their children and men moving through their day not seeing anything except the cobblestones beneath their feet.

I see pigeons perched above looking for a likely target of their sinister acts of aerial attacks as I'm convinced they are choosing targets from the passersby. I softly chuckle as one deposits a bomb on a businessman's suit as he walks past probably going to some important meeting, he looks absolutely disgusted as he attempts to remove this in vain.

I eat a lovely meal in the restaurant of my friend Jacques, an extremely excellent chef and longtime friend. I sit at my usual table beside the kitchen door so I can watch every person coming or going. I finish the single glass of Cabernet. I enjoy a succulent piece of veal imported no doubt, along with tender spring vegetables, and small easily chew-able potatoes lightly salted, with fresh cracked black pepper.

The meal finished Suzanne brings me a cup of coffee, this I enjoy as I watch the inspector from the corner of my eye, he sits with his wife of some years, he glances at me as he always does, I would like to read his thoughts as he has asked several curious questions through the years.

I pay the check and walk back to my flat, listen to some smooth jazz while I sip a glass of Cognac, I close my eyes mentally picturing the saxophonist moving as he plays the soothing strains of the tune, I thoroughly enjoy being in the moment, good food, vibrant music, life is good, then I get a good nights sleep.

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