Across A Crowded Elevator

Editor back-issues, fiction

After hours traipsing through churches bogged down with cherubs and crosses and enough gold to filigree the planet, after hordes of us line up to clear the pathetic TSA amateur style provided by the cruise ship, in the elevator, the glass one overlooking the Mediterranean, I spot him.“Professor Robert H. Raskin,” I shout.  He’s at the back, pinned against the…

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