Sunday, 26 March 2017

The awakening

Modern romances
This link   https://disqus.com/home/discussion/channel-indieworld/the_awakening/ will  take you to a new and revised version of my romance story (Aliyah).

Ten Years After

London faces a repeat of 2007

Not all Muslims are bad, but the bad ones make for good news headlines.

The media is saying this is a wake up call. It's a bit late for that, ten years too late by my account as I had a friend who was injured back in "07" by a bomb attack in London.

Saturday, 25 March 2017

It's a curse

Making your mark is impossible

t's a writer's curse; we spend months writing a story, and then send it to a magazine, only to be told it isn't good enough - or is it?

Is the case that the magazine didn't want to pay you?
After all, once they have the story, it's upto them what happens next. We put our trust in people we don't know, and hope they're being honest.

  WIth my latest rejection note, I am now batting 0 for 30, is it worth hoping anymore?
​   I stopped hopng ages ago, these last stories were sent to see if there was some hope for me, but there is none.

Thursday, 23 March 2017

Did I create a monster?

A modern Jewish romance
 To my surprise, but not to the surprise of my friends, my story  disqus.com/home/discussion/channel-writingworld/a_new_romance/   has taken on a life of its own with numerous readers requesting further adventures of Jehoiakim Atland, the Jewish journalist, and lead character in my story.

Why are my friends not surprised at the success of the story, because they keep telling me that I am a good story teller.

 Why am I surprised at the story's popularity, because for all the success of this story and my hit science fiction series (Forgestriker), I still see myself as a hack writer.

Wednesday, 22 March 2017

The pen name for success

P.A. Canella
Writers use pen manes for various reasons, some to hide their identity and others to try to write in a style that society wouldn't permit such as Robin Hobb  http://www.robinhobb.com/novels/, or George Eliot  http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/historic_figures/eliot_george.shtml.

For my sake, I wrote under various names that I thought would suit a genre, this lead P.A. Canella to write Science Fiction https://www.draft2digital.com/book/32495 / Lana Pawcel to write erotica  https://www.draft2digital.com/book/32234 / Al Place was the name I wrote crime stories under  https://www.draft2digital.com/book/32325. In the beginning I used my name Alan Place for general stories https://www.draft2digital.com/book/34522, I returned to using my name recently for ease on Amazon, not that it made a difference as sales never picked up which is why my books are only for sale on Draft2Digital

As a note to end on, as my only success story is the Forgestriker series http://alsdomain.weebly.com/forgestriker---the-hit-series.html, I decided to return to using my pen name of P.A. Canella. 

Friday, 17 March 2017

It's been a long time

July 2016
July last year was the last time I sold ten e-books in a month.
 I will never know who my buyers are, all I can say is thank you from the bottom of my heart.

   After the last few months, when things looked at their bleakest, I gave up hope of seeing the days of a ten sale month, but YOU did it!

    Already this month, you have bought ten of my e-books and I can't thank you too much.

Dragon's lair

In times of old


Still in its raw state but here is a sample of a future fantasystory.

Shandra surveyed the battle in front of her, her men were losing the struggle against their eternal enemies - the Ghoron - but she had a tactical advantage that her foe hadn't foreseen. She yelled,"Fall back to the ridge, we can make our stand in the forest, men!"
Without a second's pause, the Geven pulled from the battle and made a controlled retreat to the ridge that separated the woods from the open fields around her village. "Once we're in the woods, their armour and armies are no match for our archers, keep the lines strong, and we can have this day, men!"
The battle had raged, and the fighting was hard, but at the end of the day, the warriors of the Geven tribe stood proudly as their new chief Shandra Connaught viewed them.
Shandra had taken charge on the field of battle. The previous chief, Angus McPartland, had fallen in a fight to hold a vital outpost and with nobody appointed second-in-command, Shandra had taken command and led a charge against their foes. The charge itself came as a shock, for until then the men and women of the Geven had been on the retreat; desperate times call for desperate actions, and with nothing to lose and everything to gain, her bold actions took the advantage and put the Ghoron warriors to the sword. 
She stood on the field of battle, her auburn hair blowing in the breeze, and her sweaty body spattered in the blood of her enemies. Shandra had a fire in her veins, and the taste of victory in her mouth, but she realised her troops were all but dead on their feet and required some rest.
Shandra surveyed the men who stood before her with pride, "Warriors of the Geven, today we struck a blow for freedom. No longer will be the victims of the Ghoron. Last night, we stood firm and showed them we wouldn't wait to be attacked again. They felt our wrath; our anger is anger to avenge the brothers and sister who fell in the many battles, over the years, it is a rage filled with the desire to bathe in the blood of defeated."
The Geven and Ghoron tribes remained enemies for so long, and nobody knew or cared what started the feuds. The lands of the Kaladrian Forest have been fought over for centuries. There are tales of men who can blend into the trees and remain unseen for months, but few believe such stories.
Holding the sword of Altanus high, she called out, "We, who are here, salute you. Altanus, Lord of the unknown and bringer of peace!" 
The warriors roared in reply, "Shandra, Shandra, Shandra," and the woods rang to the noise of joyous celebrations all night. There was much drinking, singing, and telling stories, but Shandra knew this was only the beginning of the war. She left the fires of her people, and walked slowly to her tent, Shandra enjoyed the thrill of the battle as much as any warrior and enjoyed celebrating even more, but on this night, she had something more to think about - the future of her people.
A war that was destined to change Kaladria, for she had seen the future on a vision quest. Shandra had no doubt the tribe would be victorious, what she doubted was the cost; would the loss of lives be worth the victory? This war needed to be fought on many levels while the Geven were more than a match in the woods, could their forces overcome a fortress? Shandra was worried, as her men and women cheered this victory she couldn't help consider the future of her tribe, Let them have their moment, she thought, we might not see many such times in the future.
The men drank of the Mead as the women of the Geven danced around the fires. The stars lit the sky with everlasting beauty, and peace reigned in the forest - at least for now - despite the victory the guards remained vigilant. Life on the run enforced the Geven folk to be ever vigilant, even in times of joy their weapons were close at hand.
Her tent stood on the top of the rise overlooking the plain of Cardocan, below her lay the vast barren lands populated by mystical beasts and their Lord Flamendor, the great dragon. Flamendor was once the greatest of all the firebrands, but now his realm had passed to the lesser beings. The brave dragon had grown old beyond his years and was unable to fight by the side of his friends, but spirit dwelled in their souls, and this made the warriors as fearsome as ever.
Two things were certain to the warrior queen; the first is that to cross the plain, she needed the trust of Flamendor, and the second was to attack the fortress at Elfenmere, she would need all the troops and dragons the brave dragon could spare. 
Elfenmere's strength as a fort is that it can only be taken by an enemy with force with a frontal assault - high cliffs protected the rear of the fort - but this was also its weakness. A small force had the ability to hide on the cliffs and mask their attack.
Shandra strolled around their camp, looking at the men and women enjoying their well-earned victory celebration, she couldn't help thinking How many will celebrate our final triumph - if we have one? 
Her mind was brought back to the present, when a voice called, "Shandra, are you not celebrating with us?"
Shandra glanced in the direction of the caller, and then replied, "I will be with the people in a while, Samilia. I have a few things to gather before I come down." Shandra stood silently, thinking about the events of the recent battle and what was in their near future, as she closed her eyes to absorb the spirits of the forest and ask their guidance, she spotted a young bird land on a high ridge not far away. She took this as a sign from the spirits and went to seek out the ridge. The ridge was at the top of a small mountain, and she began her ascent. On her arrival, she found herself on a ridge no wider than a person's body and covered in small rocks. She watched as the bird walked along the ledge, gently tapping the stones with its beak, then for a moment the bird stopped by a pile of rocks and appeared to nod in her direction.
In the reflection of the bird's eye, Shandra thought she saw a cavern hidden far out over the lava plains, but she wasn't certain. The bird picked a small stone up in its talons and flew to Shandra; as she held her hand out to catch the pebble, she thought she heard a voice whisper, "Throw this rock, and I shall receive you in my kingdom."
Shandra didn't understand what was happening, but she believed in the world of the spirits and believed they were talking to her now, so. She threw the small stone as far as her aching arm was able and watched as it appeared to fall from the sky, then to her surprise the rock took on a life of its own and flew out of sight.
The rock dipped and swirled in the steaming eddies of the lava plains before coming to rest on a patch of land at the edge of Shandra's sight. "That isn't right; I couldn't have thrown the rock that far after such a gruelling battle," she muttered,"what about the way it travelled?" 
In the back of her mind, a thought emerged; "No, you didn't throw the stone. My powers drew the stone to me, Shandra. Only those of true faith can see me. The cave you see at the edge of the plain is my home. I rarely leave my dwellings these days; there are not many believers and too many out to kill my kind for a safe flight. Once in awhile, I do try to stretch my wings and feel the wind on my face, I need to fly during the dark hours, and I miss the countryside colours. I hear your thoughts, Shandra, you need not worry about the heat, as my mind will be your safeguard as you come to me. All you need to do is to believe in me, and you'll be safe."
Shandra stood on the ledge looking at her destination; she had accepted the spirit into her life from childhood, but now it wasn't just about believing - she was putting her life and the future of her clan in the words she thought she'd heard from a cave she could barely see. With reluctance, she unbuckled her sheath and laid her sword on the ground at her feet, and then she cautiously edged forward to the brink of the flow - still not certain if this was the right choice.
Shandra stood on the ledge overlooking the lava, on her mind she had one thought,“What if I am being misled? I believe in the legend of Flamendor - the greatest of dragons - but is that belief enough to risk my life?”
The rising heat was so hot, she almost fell in the lava. She was about to give in to her fear when a voice echoed in her mind, “I can’t give you what you don’t wish to have. If your belief is strong, you will survive the walk to the cave, if it isn’t, you won’t get more than a few feet from where you stand. The answer to the question lies not with me, but within yourself, Shandra.”
Reluctantly,she stepped forward, stones rose from the lava to guide her footsteps. Now she’d started Shandra had no alternative but to go on in the hope that she had the strength of faith to walk across what seemed an endless fire plain. She was a brave warrior, and had the courage and skill to lead her men in battle but this was not about battle skills, this battle was about an inner belief and that is something Shandra had never challenged before, she had taken so many things for granted. One of those was that as a woman, she would never be given the opportunity to lead her men into battle, but a battlefield command is hard to dismiss; especially when the person wins a noble victory against a numerically superior force. As she had been told, she never took her eyes of the cave at the end of her journey, Flamendor told her this would be a sign of her questioning his decision and would lead to instant death. 

Shandra had been walking for so long her legs began to tire, and she wondered if she’d made the correct choice in coming, or would she die here on the lava and her bones never be found. She was at the point of stumbling off the path chosen for her, when the cave came into sight, and sitting on a large boulder at its mouth Flamendor snorted a stream of steam. “I’m glad you made the crossing, Shandra. I saw that  you’re a brave warrior but I needed to know how strong the faith is in you.”
She pulled herself up the small incline, the sweat dripping from her long hair down her back. As she looked up at the cave, she said, “It wasn’t as if you gave me the choice. The choice was easy, either go on, or die and never be found. I’ve heard stories about other warriors who came and died on the lava, their bones were never found.”
Flamendor gave a snort of steam, and then commented, “That is true, the lava fields move, and the shadows lie as the sun sets on the blocks. You think you’re walking on a solid platform, only to find that there is nothing to walk on. The lava doesn’t return what it takes, ever.”
Wiping her back with some reeds, Shandra inquired, “If you saw the battle, you knew we were close to losing. Why didn’t you come to our aid?”
The big dragon flapped his mighty wings, and took off for a small flight, leaving her with her thoughts for a short time. On his return, he laid a sheep at her feet, and said, “I could not come to your aid, Shandra, for many reasons. The main reason is I am the last of my breed in this area. There is a legend of another of my kind living across the mountains to the North - but that’s only a legend - I’ve heard on my travels flying over the city.”
She smiled, and then said, “What other reasons do you have for staying here when we needed you?”
Flamendor replied, “I needed you to prove yourself in battle, so I would know you are the person I need to go on a quest. This you did not only in battle, but when you accepted my invitation for this talk.”
She glanced at the barren cave, and then replied, “What makes you think I’ll accept your quest?”
The dragon smiled, and commented, “Because you are here. If you didn’t want to challenge the rules, you would not have taken the honour of claiming the victory at the feast.

​You showed true wisdom by retreating in the face of the enemy, leading them into your trap. I suggest  that you take advantage of the spring at the back of my cave  to wash the dried blood of your body and clothes, you have a long journey and need your rest, My cave has no luxury other than being warm and safe. The cave is yours  to rest in until you feel fit to continue.”

Wednesday, 15 March 2017

Eilat

The end is near

These are the penultimate pages to my romance story set in Eilat, Israel

To read the end, you will need to buy the #ebook




Jehoiakim Altland, the Jewish journalist woke with a start. His heart pounding and his dripping with sweat, “Not again, how many more nights sleep will I lose before I can erase the memory of the woman in these dreams?”
He sat on his bed and took two pills with a glass of water to calm his pulse, as it was almost time for him to get up for work, he picked the phone up and rang his editor, Abir Moszkowicz. "Abir can you spare me for two weeks? I think I need a vacation. I want to go on an Aliyah, a homecoming back to Israel. I have something that I need to clear up for my peace of mind. I'll tell you more when I get to the office."
Abir didn't take long to reply, "Of course, you can take the time, this is only the third time you’ve asked for a vacation in the eight years that you've worked here. This trip must be important to you to ask for the time off, and I am intrigued to find out the reason for your request."
Jehoiakim got dressed and went to pick his car up from the basement where he'd parked it the night before. He was in such a state he almost passed his car before he realized where he was. He loathed to take a break, that was the driving force behind his success on the paper. He never knew when to call it a day with a story. This story had become a personal mission, something was niggling at the back of his mind, and he couldn't think what it was, and that is what worried him.
After taking the 20-minute drive from his lodgings to the office where he worked, he pulled into the office car park and stopped his engine. The longer he thought about his situation, the more Jehoiakim was puzzled about what was going on. Being  Jewish, he'd learned the value of staying calm and reasoning things out, and not making rushed decisions, but the more he tried to reason his problem, the more he found himself at a loss.
Abir watched as his friend entered the room in a rush, and said to his secretary, Joanna, "This looks like being a long chat, can you make some coffee please?” Abir opened the door to the editor's office for his friend and walked over to his seat behind the desk. "Shalom, Jehoiakim, First, when do you want the time off?"
There was no time to think, as Jehoiakim replied, "Shalom, Abir. I must apologize for my rushed entrance, I have many things on my mind. When is it suitable for the paper for me to take my vacation?"
Abir shrugged his broad shoulders, and then replied, with typical Jewish humor in his tone "You ask, when can I let you go? My friend, You so rarely ask for time off,”Abir laughed, and then continued, “I am usually the one begging you to take a vacation or lose the time. You are the paper's best writer, but unless you take a break once in a while, I fear you'll repeat the nervous breakdown you had the year you arrived. You were so keen to impress, you drove yourself to exhaustion, All I can say is you choose your dates, and they’ll be booked."
Jehoiakim replied, "I'd like to fly out to Israel next week, if you can spare me, Abir. I recall those days well, my friend. I recall thinking my writing at the time as a hack writer is zevel. "
Abir smiled, and then said, "Jehoiakim, you may have been rough around the edges, but your work was far from rubbish. I always admired your tenacity and devotion to the truth.” Raising his hands to the heavens, Abir added “Even if it does make you enemies in high places. Don’t worry about the dates, consider the dates booked. Now, can you please enlighten me about what made you ask for time off."
Joanna came in and put the coffee pot on the table in front of Jehoiakim. After thanking her, Jehoiakim continued their discussion, "For the last two weeks, I've had vivid dreams about taking an Aliyah. I can't tell you why this year of all years. Something is driving me to return this year. In these dreams, I see a beautiful woman with a full figure and dark brown hair beckoning me to the shores of Eilat, or at least I think it's Eilat."
Abir sipped his coffee, and was deep in thought, after a while, he replied, "Correct me if I’m wrong, but you haven't been to Israel in the last five years - other than for the job in Tel Aviv - have you?"
"No, you are right. I haven’t been to my homeland since then. That job was important to us and I spent the week in Tel Aviv ."
"In that case, what makes you think your dream was about Eilat and not Tel Aviv, or Jerusalem, Jehoiakim?"
"Abir, the only thing that comes to mind is I can hear jazz music playing in the background."
Abir smiled as he realized his friend could be right. Eilat holds an annual jazz festival, but something else was intriguing him, "Have you any idea who the woman is? Have you thought of anyone recently that could have triggered your thoughts?"
After a little thought, Jehoiakim replied, "No, I have no idea who she is. Most of my dreams have been about the trip. It's only in the last week that she has appeared in my mind."
There followed a short silence. Then the phone rang, after putting the phone in the cradle, Abir said, "Joanna has booked your flight and hotel, all you need to do is pack and relax."
Jehoiakim glanced around at the map on the wall showing the areas covered by the paper, and then said, "Relaxing is the last thing I can do, Abir. This story could be a big story for our paper. I don't want to mess things up."
Abir rose from his chair, and walking past Jehoiakim on his way to the cabinet to get a file out, he said, "Listen to yourself, Jehoiakim. For once, take a break and relax. Who knows, this woman might turn out to be the holiday romance you need to calm down."
Jehoiakim rose from his chair and paced around the office, first looking out at the throbbing world outside the window, and then at the world map on the office wall. He walked to where Abir was standing and asked his friend, "Do you think I still push myself too hard, Abir?"
Abir turned from the cabinet and then replied, "If you are asking the question, you know in your heart what the answer is. You do need to take this trip back to Israel. I think if you don't go you'll end up having a breakdown. One thing still puzzles me."
Jehoiakim scratched the stubble on his chin and replied,"What's puzzling you?"
Abir gave a slight shrug, "You still haven't told me why you want to go this year?"
Jehoiakim thought about how to answer the unanswerable question he had been posed and then said, "I can give no certain reason. The only thing I know is that for some reason, my homeland is calling to me louder than before, and I need to answer the call. Perhaps, I'll find the answer when I get there, maybe there is no definite answer to your question, Abir."
Abir raised his cup to down the last of his coffee, and said to Jehoiakim, "L’Chaim.Finish your coffee, you have a lot to do and not long to do it. I hope your journey is fruitful and brings you the peace of mind that you need so badly. Shavua Tov"
Jehoiakim raised his cup and repeated the toast, “B'ezrat HaShem. L’Chaim, to life and what it may bring.”
The week passed too quick for Jehoiakim. Though he was sure that he’d got things in order, he had the niggling thought he’d forgotten something. The days seemed to drag, but the week flew by. He had many things on his mind, not the least was the mystery woman, who is she and what did she have to do with the Aliyah? Try as he might, Jehoiakim could not recall seeing her face before, but something seemed familiar about her.
Although he was a Jew, Jehoiakim had spent the majority of his life far away, mostly in England, but his work as a photojournalist took him all over at a moment’s notice. Deep in his heart, he knew something spiritual was missing in his life. Jehoiakim knew he needed to return to the Holy Land for some reason, but the reason evaded him. He had been so busy he'd never had the time to plan a trip. He found the longer he waited, the more the wish to return burned in his soul.
Jehoiakim had made his plans to get the flight from London to Tel Aviv. At this late hour, everything was being rushed through, but he finally got his plan in action and was looking forward to the five-hour flight. Then something happened that changed his plans. He was walking across the airport foyer trying to find which queue to join when he was called to the flight desk. There was a message left for him but it was only a quick, garbled message from Abir, "I've arranged for you to meet Adrianna Kucinski, in Milan. She's doing a European tour and her flight to Bucharest doesn’t link with her flight from Milan for a few hours, she’ll meet you in Milan."
The flight change caught Jehoiakim off guard; he'd turned up at the airport expecting to board the flight to Tel Aviv. Now he found that his editor had changed the plan and booked him for the trip to Milan. The modification of policy had left him with only a few minutes over the hour passengers have to board their flights. The stopover in Milan was no problem, after all, he'd always wished he had the time for an Italian vacation, and Milan, not Rome, would be the city he wanted to see. He wished someone had notified him earlier as the alteration had put him on edge.
Jehoiakim had kept abreast of the writing world, in his role as a journalist - even if he had stopped writing outside his job on the Jewish Express, so he had an idea who Adrianna was. As a reporter, he'd made a name for himself by asking interviewees awkward questions, and not giving up until he got close to the truth - as he saw it - his style had both won him fans and respect from his readers, but he'd also made enemies of some powerful people. Death threats were nothing new to him, either as a Jew or a hard-talking reporter. He always kept in mind the quote from Woodrow Wilson,"If you want to make enemies, try to change something."
Changes are a constant companion as a writer, people's views, opinions, and the political interplay was always moving, changing faster than the winds sometimes. Your friend today could become an enemy overnight; such was the life the Jewish people had been forced to live with since time began. The Jews had long ago learned that trust is as fickle as the desert wind that burns the air surrounding you, most people would turn on you if it were to their benefit. Those who stood by you at any cost risked becoming targets of hate as much as the Jews themselves, and those were the people you could trust even if there were few of them to be found.
The plane landed at Milan. The flight from London to Milan was only two hours. Air travel was no bother - now - for Jehoiakim, but he still remembered his first flight to Canada from Gatwick. How could he forget? He'd been forced to travel overnight for an early morning flight and suffering from nerves he'd not been able to rest during the six-hour wait for the flight. It didn't help his cause that the night he set off, he'd got soaked through within minutes of leaving his house. How he longed to feel the hot sun on his back again after all these years.
Jehoiakim had accepted the meeting with Mrs. Kucinski without a second thought; he had little else to do as it was too late to question the call when he received it and Jehoiakim realized he could use a stopover once in a while, his writing was getting jaded recently he had noted. He lacked the biting touch his readers came to expect, and he wasn't happy with his work either, even if the regular work paid the bills there was no satisfaction in writing lackluster articles for the younger readers when he wanted to do items of note. Sure, he had gained a massive following with the youngsters, but did he want to report on the pop circus when he knew life was moving fast, and he was missing the real stories?

Something out in the world was calling Jehoiakim, and he needed to find out what was calling him; first he had to find out what was calling him back to Israel at this time, more importantly, why this year?
The plane landed in Milan, and Jehoiakim made his way to the lounge for a cup of coffee - when in Milan try the best coffee in Italy - one of his colleagues told him on his return from a job in Italy. Jehoiakim sat in the lounge listening to the flights getting called in, as there was nothing to suggest that Adrianna’s flight from her last scheduled in Barcelona was nearing, he decided to have a coffee and a pastry to belay his hunger.

The unexpected change to his plans meant that he had to visit the Bureau de Change to get some lira for his snack as all he had was sterling in his pocket, the traveler’s checks were safely locked in his luggage. He had time to open the case, but he didn't wish to open it now, after all, he only needed a light snack, not a full meal.
Jehoiakim glanced around the lobby, trying to get his bearings and find his way to the pastry counter. Being in Italy, he found an abundance of cake and ice cream stands, Jehoiakim realized, he was either going to have to watch what he ate or accept the consequences of gaining some weight with all the exquisite food to eat.
After getting his coffee and cake, Jehoiakim went in search of a seat, preferably one with a view of the arrivals screen. He sat and sipped his coffee, as he did he thought, "this is more like the coffee I prefer, the European blends are too weak for my taste."
The screens showed the flight from Barcelona was about an hour out of Milan and had no unexpected delays. As always, he began to sweat, it is a trait that Jehoiakim had since childhood when meeting somebody new, even in his late 40's he hadn't shaken his trait; "some things will not change," he muttered as he waited and watched the passengers disembark from the flights. "Stations, airports and bus terminals, lives crisscrossing in a mesh and no one cared who you are, or where you're going.”. As he thought of the many millions of people each day whose lived intertwined, and yet, never meant anything to anybody, not in their lives.
He began to feel on edge as the time for Adrianna's flight landing came closer; would she object to having her short stopover disrupted by another writer, while she expected a rest in her schedule? He wondered why she had agreed to this meeting in the first place? His editor had said that she had a busy schedule planned, and had not much time to spare before going on the second part of the book signing tour and returning to Israel, for her winter break.

Jehoiakim got so anxious he began to pace, "Why am I so nervous?,This isn't the first and probably won't be my last interview." He'd got so wound up, he realized with a start that he'd wandered out of sight of the arrivals board. As he gathered his thoughts and walked back to the seat he'd vacated, he glanced at the board above him, the flight was on the circuit and would be disembarking within 20 minutes.
As he waited for Adrianna to appear, a thought hit him, in all the rush to change flights, he'd had no time to collect ideas for questions. This is going to be fun," he muttered, “I don't know what to talk about or if she has any taboo subjects to avoid, talk about winging it.” Jehoiakim smiled as he thought of the possibilities he was about to meet, he'd never gone into an interview blind before, he'd often blindsided his interviewees with questions they either didn't know how to answer or chose to avoid, but he'd been in control until now.

The flight landed on time, and Jehoiakim watched as the passengers walked down the aisles to their different meetings, some met friends or relatives, others were met with business associates. It was easy to see the relationship involved by the degree of personal contact in the meeting. To an observer of people, such as Jehoiakim, it was clear that many people were passing through Milan, going to where was the question?
He was so intent on watching the traffic, it was a few minutes before he realized that the Barcelona flight had fully disembarked and Adrianna was not among the passengers. "I hope nothing happens to her," he thought as he made his way to the information desk. His mind was running ahead of him at this point. He began to wonder about all the various scenarios that could have taken place between the meeting being arranged and now.

He arrived at the desk, and waited impatiently for his turn when it came, he didn't know where to start asking questions. “Can you tell me if a Ms. Adrianna Kucinski was on the Barcelona flight, please? We planned to meet, but she hasn't come through customs and the passengers have left the terminal."
The young woman at the desk checked the passenger list and replied, “ I'm sorry, according to our information, your friend wasn't on the flight from Barcelona."
Jehoiakim thanked the young woman and went to get another coffee, now more than before he needed a drink to calm his nerves. In these days of terrorism, there are so many scenarios, he needed time to get his thoughts clear, but it is hard when you think somebody you know of could be in danger.
"Airports," he muttered as he looked around at the crowds milling, "people coming, going, and meeting people. All these people's lives cross, and they go unnoticed. I wonder how many people passing through could describe even one person here?"

Jehoiakim walked over to the window that showed the planes in the circuit and wondered "Are you in the circuit, Adrianna?" With little else to do, he ordered another coffee and went back to his table, and he realized that worrying about things only made them seem worse than they were in reality, but when your friend is late it is unavoidable - especially if you have no reason for the delay. He sat and pondered, "I wonder where these planes are from and where they are going, there are so many airlines and destinations to choose from these days. I wonder what makes a person choose their destination?"
He was so deep in thought that he didn't hear a faint voice call his name, "Excuse me, are you Jehoiakim? I apologize for the introduction, my editor asked me to meet you, but gave me no information about your description.”
With a start, he turned to see the face of a mature woman looking at him, "Yes, I am, you must be Adrianna," he stuttered as he saw the face of a beautiful Jewish woman, "please take a seat."
Adrianna opened the conservation, "I am sorry to have caused the delay, and I apologize if I worried you. I have a good reason; I stopped over in Turin for a couple of hours."
A little perplexed, Jehoiakim inquired,"Turin?"
Adrianna gave a smile and replied, "Yes, your articles on the Superga tragedy aroused my interest, and as I don't know if I will be in this area again, I decided to see the scene of the crash for myself. It was a great tragedy that all those lives were lost returning from the match in Portugal. To think that most of the Italian national team died in that crash is terrible."

He glanced at her beautiful face and said, "What is worse, is that outside Italy few people have heard of the collision, yet many can recall the Munich disaster. In honor of those who died in the accident, the other teams played their reserve squads for the remaining matches of that season so Turino would win the title."

Adrianna smiled and ran her fingers through her graying hair, and then she asked, "What made you come to Milan? Most people visit Italy and want to see Rome or Venice."
He shrugged, and then replied, "I guess I am not like most people. It isn't anything religious, I never fancied seeing Rome. As for Venice, my friends tell me it is like an open sewer. Other than that, I have long had a fascination with Milan and Northern Italy driven by the want to find information on the top police officer of the 1950's - Mario Nardone. I tried everywhere, but I can't find any information on his life, do you think it is indicative of the modern society that we know more about the criminals than the police who bring them to justice?"
Adrianna gave a short laugh, and then said, "I think it is more a case of the crime is more interesting because of what was stolen, people's thirst for the knowledge of what others have is unquenchable, that is why gossip columns are so widely read in the papers."
He shrugged, and then replied, "That is true, and the main reason I chose not to write celebrity articles for my paper. I prefer to write about what is happening, not about which celebrity is doing their thing this week. Numerous other writers fill that space. I can't tell you how honored I am that you stopped over for my interview, Adrianna. I realize how busy you must be, and that you are on a whistle-stop tour of Europe to promote your latest book."
She ran her fingers across the table, and replied, "Believe me, I am only too pleased to have this opportunity to take a breath, at my age dashing around Europe is no fun. I too am honored that you took the time to interview me, from what my editor emailed me, you're on your Aliyah and returning to Israel this year. Is there a reason why you chose this year?"
He looked at Adrianna and then said, “All I know, is that for months, I have had dreams of a woman beckoning me to the shores at Eilat, and for some reason, I am feeling the pull of my homeland more this year than ever. I get the sense that something important is about to happen in my life, and for the Lord’s sake, I have no idea what it possibly can be.”

Adrianna sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, and then she said, "Are you sure you hadn't had the woman on your mind? Sometimes these memories lay hidden for years, perhaps, your paths crossed on the last trip home you took."

Jehoiakim glanced around the lounge, and then replied, "I could say that was the case, but my last trip was only a quick business trip to Tel Aviv to make some contacts in the area, and I was so busy working I had no opportunity to leave the city. I can say with certainty that I have never seen this woman before or been to Eilat, but both she and the area seem familiar to me for some reason."
She sat quietly, running her slender fingers through her hair, and then replied, "There is another explanation, perhaps, you overheard somebody talking about Eilat, and wondered what it would be like to visit the city. I realize this still doesn't explain your mystery woman, are you sure it isn't me, you're thinking of?"

He glanced back to her face, and brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, he replied, "No, that is the only thing I am sure of. The woman I keep seeing is not as tall as you, and she has a fuller figure, and her hair is a darker brown than yours. I don't think I've seen her, but she seems familiar in so many ways."
Adrianna thought for a moment, as she considered the actions of her friend, and after a pause, she commented, "I know it's a remote chance, have you seen her on TV or in the cinema, and not realized the connection?"
Jehoiakim smiled, then replied, "Your hypothesis could be correct, apart from the fact that I am too busy working to watch TV, and I could not tell you the last film I saw at the cinema. One of the reasons for the trip this month is my editor told me that I am pushing myself too hard, and for too long. He's worried I am heading for a nervous breakdown similar to the one I had several years ago."
Adrianna blushed, and then made the remark, "Your editor is a wise man it would seem. I feel a little embarrassed that your homecoming has involved you in this interview when you need a rest."

Jehoiakim was now the one feeling embarrassed, as he replied,"Please don't feel that way. I know I’m in a rush because the meeting came as a surprise. I won't deny I need a rest, but I wouldn't have missed the meeting for anything, Adrianna."
The milling throng of people passing each other took Adrianna's gaze for a moment. An action that didn't go unnoticed by Jehoiakim. He decided if she wanted to raise the matter, it is her choice, and not his business to pry, However, the thought that two people meeting on a whim and both imagining they saw someone they knew, in the same airport lounge. To him appeared a very remote possibility, but here they were.

As he glanced at her, he saw her face seem to lose its color, to try to ease her tension, he asked, "Do you want to hear a funny story about my trip to Canada?"
Realizing that he'd seen her actions, and done the gentlemanly thing by not approaching the topic. He was trying to give her a way to regain composure and not lose face, she said, "I didn't realize you'd been to Canada, please go on."
He continued,"It was my first flight to Canada, I was going to see a friend - who has passed away - I was going through customs when I got stopped. My friend was a good cook, and she asked me if I could bring some Bay leaves over, as we had a tree in our garden. I never thought there would be any complications, but the guards stopped me at the checkpoint. I had my bags searched as if I was a smuggler, all the time I was wondering what was going on, and then the dime dropped.
I still needed to get through customs and with not having the Canadian cell link I had no way of telling her what was going on. She was on one side of the barrier and I was on the other, we were only a few hundred meters apart, but it may as well have been thousands of miles. When it was over and we met, we had a good laugh about the matter over a cup or two of coffee."
Adrianna gave a weak smile and then commented, “Thank you for trying to dispel my worries by telling me the amusing story. I’m sorry I got distracted, I thought I saw somebody I hadn’t seen for years, but it couldn’t have been the person.”

Jehoiakim was unsure what to say, but he thought he glimpsed a way in, “Why shouldn’t the person be here? I realize it is a bit of a long shot, the two of us seeing people we thought we knew, on the same day, and in the same airport lounge but these things do happen. Milan is the tourist center for the north of Italy, after all.”
Adrianna glanced at Jehoiakim, and urged him to lean in as she said in whispered tones, “I realize that, but I thought the person I saw was killed in a car crash several years ago; I went to her funeral, looking back something did seem odd about the burial.”

He leaned forward to hear the rest of the story, and then he asked,“What appeared odd?”
She cast her mind back to that day, and after a pause, she replied, “The casket appeared too light to carry the person I recalled, and I noticed a woman in black hovering on the edge of the service. She never came fully into view but she was always there, on the edge of my vision like just now.”
He ran his fingers across his beard, and then replied, “I have to say that does sound weird to me. I’ve heard of the feeling of someone walking across your grave. Some scientists put this down to somebody crossing your path in an alternate reality, to believe this you need to believe in the multiverse theory that for each action we take, another world is created for the action we never took. The other theory is some people say that if you meet three people from your past, it’s a sign of a portent of your impending death. For myself, I am not sure which theory I believe.”
She looked around trying to see the woman again, but she was not in sight when she turned back, Adrianna said, “Where does that leave me? Quantum theory? Superstition? Or am I going mad?”
Jehoiakim didn’t like being cornered, and unintentionally this interview was heading that way. He tried to recover lost ground by saying, “You have to remember that I am here because I keep having dreams of a woman who I think I’ve seen before but can’t recall where or when I saw her.”
Adrianna gave a quick look at the clock by the departure board, and said, “I’m sorry to rush, but I need to catch the next flight to Bucharest; if we exchange cell phone numbers I can contact you when I get back to Israel in a week, if you’re still here, Shalom Aleichem.”

Jehoiakim and Adrianna swapped phone numbers and she said “Aleichem Shalom.”, As she was about to leave for her flight, he called out, “Adrianna, do you see her by the pastry counter?”
Adrianna quickly glanced to the counter, and then shrugged her shoulders and headed to the queue for the flight to Bucharest.
Jehoiakim took another glance in the direction of the counter, and shrugging, he said, “Am I going mad? Why come home this year of all years, and what is the meaning of seeing this woman in my dreams?”
He watched as the line of people for Bucharest slowly entered the plane, with a sigh, he muttered, "Shavua Tov, Adrianna. We shall meet again, the next time we will meet it will be in Israel. I may not be in Tel Aviv when you get home but I won't be far away."
As he turned from watching the last people board the flight, Jehoiakim began to question the rationale of his trip. He travelled home on the whim of seeing an unknown woman beckon him to a city he;d never visited, "Am I going mad," he thought as he wandered back to his table to finish his coffee.
Jehoiakim laughed, and then thought, "That was interesting, not at all what I was expecting. Perhaps, our meeting in Israel will prove more fruitful." The with a smile, he muttered, "As I have time on my hands, when in Rome, or in this case Milan, take in the sights." He rose from his seat, and picked his luggage up.
He made his way to the shuttle - a 40-minute drive across the city- to the Affittacamere Hostel. After walking up the stairs to his room and putting his bags down, Jehoiakim looked out at his surroundings. "Plain, but the room suits my needs, Abir did well to get this spot," he muttered.
The hotel room was basic, but Jehoiakim was only after a bed and breakfast stop and not looking to stay more than a day or two. The hotel suited his purposes to a tee. The Affittacamere Hostel is close to both the San Siro Stadium - home of AC Milan - and the famous Monza racetrack, both venues were high on his to see list but at the top of the list stood the fabulous Duomo di Milano cathedral in all its splendour.

He sat at the desk in his room and put the kettle on for a coffee “Oy vey, so much to see, so little time to see it.There are many things outside the city that I have no time to explore, not the least is Bergamo with its Italian-Jewish roots. I'll need to take a vacation here one day; how long have you told yourself that, and how many times have you talked yourself out of taking the vacation you need?”
The rest was earned, and greatly needed, by Jehoiakim. His few friends had told him that he was getting too on edge about things he couldn't control, and if he didn't take a break they may be forced to end their friendship with him for the sake of all concerned.
Over the years he'd viewed many places to visit for a vacation, and Italy was always at the top of the list, followed by Israel, the USA and Spain. Not far behind is Greece, Norway and Austria, but the prize is Italy, and here he was in Milan but with no time for enjoyment.
He began unpacking his overnight bag to find some checks to get a little money for his meal for the night, and to gather his photo gear to take with him as he took in the sights his short time allowed. This will make for the background to a good story, he thought as he walked down the stairs to the lobby and out into the bustling city.
Outside on the Via Ignazio Ciaia he noticed the narrow streets packed with cars, typical of many such areas in Italy, he supposed. Another thing he noticed was one of the main types of shop on the streets is the Bistro. He didn't have much money to spare, so substantial not elaborate was his choice for cuisine for the night.
After finding a bistro to eat at, Jehoiakim took a stroll in the fading light to the cathedral to take some romantic photos of the magnificent building lit by moonlight. Churches – no matter what religion – always amazed him. In those days without modern equipment, he was in awe of how the churches and cathedrals were so dominating, and yet, he still recalled the early stories of John Wesley standing on a small mound preaching to the crowd proclaim get he didn't need a massive church to praise the Lord’s work. How different to today’s Evangelists with their massive businesses, he thought as he stopped to shoot some photos.
The cool of the night began to chill his bones, despite the thick sweater he was wearing, so Jehoiakim decided to turn in for the night as he had an early flight to Tel Aviv ahead of him. As he lay on the bed various thoughts passed through his mind, Who is she? Why do I get the feeling I know her, and yet I can’t place her face? Why did I need to return this year?  Thoughts mingled with soft breeze as he dozed off, the next thing he recalled was his alarm call and getting up.
He stood in line for the flight to Tel Aviv thinking “Oh, vey. It’s a four hour flight, and the flight from London would only have been a little longer.”
He boarded the plane and found his seat by the window and prepared himself for the flight home, still not sure why he was going and what the woman by the shore had to do with anything - if it all.
Although he had flown several times, his heart still pounded on take-offs and landings, even if he was certain the pilot had things under control. He had joked with friends that flying was safer than driving, but he still felt queezy during flights, “it’s the thought of being locked in a tin at 14,000 feet” he told himself.
Finally, he settled and began to read the book he had brought for the flight - Chronicles of Mark Johnson - Jehoiakim felt a kindred spirit flowed with the character in the story. Mark Johnson was also a reporter with a tough exterior hiding his vulnerability.

The blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea passed by, and before he knew it, the plane was heading into Israeli airspace. He hadn’t been back for several years, but he was in no rush to exit the plane, after all, this was his destination - or so he thought.
After the majority of the passengers had departed the plane, Jehoiakim joined them on the route to the border check, wondering if he’d get stopped as he did at the Canadian border both times he visited Edmonton. There was a minimal delay as the security guards ran routine checks for bombs, or illegal software on his laptop.
As he stood, trying to gather his thoughts, he muttered, “Mizman loh hitraehnu.”
Behind him a lady asked,”Have you been away long?”
He turned to see a younger lady, and replied, “It’s only been five years, but five years too long.”
The woman enquired, “Atah tzabar o oleh?”
He smiled at the thought that after all his time away, his looks led people to assume he was Jewish. So, he replied, “Ani meh Dimona. I was born in Israel but I spent most of my time living in Europe and writing for the European presses. One thing hasn’t changed, that is the humidity, it’s still as oppressive as I recall from my previous trip.”

The woman smiled at Jehoiakim, and asked, “Would you consider me rude, or too forward, if I invited you to sit with me for a while, I’m waiting for someone and I’m alone at the moment?”
Jehoiakim smiled back, and then commented, “I would consider the request an honour. I am lost myself, I thought I was going to come to Tel Aviv, but I have a feeling Eilat will be my destination.”
The woman looked quizzically at him, and then asked, “Why do you think that?”
He went on to explain about the woman in his dreams, and the overbearing sense that he needed to return to Israel this year for some reason, and then ended his chat by saying, “You probably think I’m being foolish, coming here on a dream, I do.”
She smiled and said, “Not at all. My first vacation was because of a dream.” She glanced across the lounge, and said, “It’s being pleasant talking to you, but my ride is here. I must be on my way. Lehitraot, I wish you a safe journey and may you find what you seek in Eilat.”
She got up and walked to a man who was waving to her, after a brief greeting the two kissed, and Jehoiakim thought “I hope you find what you seek too.”

At a loose end, he started to wander, attempting to see if anyone would signal him and let him know what was going on. He had been walking aimlessly for several minutes, when he spotted a man with a sign saying יהויקים Altland. Unsure what to do, he approached the man, and enquired, “Are you waiting for me?”
The man smiled, and said, “Yes, Mr. Altland, I’m your escort to the plane. The flight to Eilat will leave shortly, and we wanted to be sure that you’re on it.”
Jehoiakim halted, and asked, “Who is the “we” of which you talk?”
The man explained, “I am part of a group that has been watching you for several years. We need your openness in writing, and your contacts in journalism, to attempt to combat the bias against the state of Israel in the western media. Now, can we get on the plane please?”
After a moment’s pause, Jehoiakim consented and went with his guide to the other side of the airport to catch the plane for the 40-minute flight to Eilat. The charter flight rolled down the runway, and with a rush took off into the blue Israeli sky, What a change to the grey skies I left behind in England, Jehoiakim thought.
On landing, the flight was met by a car, and the two men were taken to their hotel. Looking out at the Red Sea, he couldn’t stop wondering, What is this about? Why have I come to Eilat this year?
Jehoiakim turned from his view of the sea, and was startled to see the mysterious woman from his dreams sitting on the bed, with a sexy smile on her lips she said, “I’m glad you could come, Jehoiakim.”
Startled, he asked, “Who are you? I get the feeling I know you but I can’t place when or where we met.”
The lady draped herself on the coverlet, and replied seductively, “My name is unimportant. You do know me, but not from seeing me. I am to you, what you see as your image of a Jewish lady. I exist only in your mind. I wished you to come here because shortly you’ll receive two phone calls. One has bad news and the other is from a long-lost friend.”
Before his eyes, this vision of beauty vanished. While he was trying to collect his thoughts, the phone rang, “Mr. Altland, this is the hotel reception. We are sorry to inform you, a friend of yours has been involved in an attack and lies close to death in the hospital. The nurses ask that you attend as quick as you can, your friend doesn’t have long to live.”
Stunned, Jehoiakim lay on the bed thinking who it could be. As he lay there letting the sad news sink in, the phone rang again, “We’re sorry to disturb you in your time of sorrow, Mr. Altland but you have a call from Mark Wilkerson, will you take the call?”

“Certainly. Please put the call through.” Mark Wilkerson there’s a name from my past, he thought as he wondered what was going on.
There was a click as the operator put her phone down, and a voice from his past said, “Shalom Jehoiakim, a long time, no see. It’s nice to have you home, what a shame it’s for such a sad reason though.”
Still a little in shock from the two revelations, he replied, “Shlom Mark, how did you know about the incident, I only heard about a few minutes ago?”
There was a silence at the other end as Mark enquired, “What incident? I’ve heard nothing, I was talking about the death of your niece, Anna. Who did you think I mean?”
Jehoiakim fiddled with the cable of the phone, twirling the cable in his hands, he replied, “ I’m so sorry to hear about Anna. We were close before I had to leave. Some people believed we had a telepathic link. It’s a long story, are you free for a coffee this evening? If you are, I can tell you about the dream that brought me here this year.”
At the other end, he could hear pages turning, and then Mark commented, “I have a free period of two hours before I need to catch my flight back to Tel Aviv, we can talk then.”

Jehoiakim put the phone back on the cradle, and walked to the balcony. Did I come back this year because Anna died? Did we have the link that our family and friends thought we had? There were so many questions, and so few answers, only suppositions were remaining now she had died, but something had called him back.
He went inside, and poured a coffee while he waited for Mark to arrive. There were so many mysteries, and now no way to get the answers. Jehoiakim was so lost in his thoughts, he almost missed his cell phone ringing, “Jehoiakim Altland, may I help you?”
A voice from the other end replied, “Shalom Jehoiakim, I got back a few hours ago. The last two bookings were cancelled owing to public disorder over immigrants in the cities involved.”

A little off his guard, he stuttered, “Shalom Adrianna. It’s nice to hear your voice again, I’m sorry about the cancellations but pleased to know that you’re safe. I’m down at Eilat doing some research if you wish to visit for a day or two before your break.”
Adrianna licked her sensuous lips and replied, “You can try to stop me. I can’t come down for a few days. I have some things that require attention here in Tel Aviv, but I shall be down for the weekend.”