The Gulag


Following the Mouseketeers gathering, I made my way through connecting corridors with Marlys’ trailing not far behind me. My mind abandoned vital business, which I had discussed in detail at the meeting. Instead, my attention was concentrated on what might occur when we both came together at my door. I was not going to deny her again, if that is what had happened before.

My interactions with Marlys had never had any real substance to them. I had never left her presence certain of anything, especially my standing with her, or my place in her life. If I had one. I walked with a firm step. We had this night before us. The morning was eight hours away. The ship was not due to sail until mid-afternoon. Tomorrow would come soon enough, and it would have sufficient hours to accomplish the mission, or at least enough to give me a marginal chance of success.