Claire took his arm as they wandered along what John called Café Alley where there was a variety of fare on offer, Indian, Chinese, Persian, Turkish,...Italian, even British!“Claire, you choose which place for us,” John begged her. “You’ve been through a lot, which one?”“I really fancy a curry,” she said, glancing at him to ascertain if this met with his approval.“Good idea!” he enthused. “Can’t go wrong with a curry.”The meal was well cooked and attentively served with humour and no. I stopped and backed up, and looked during a three hundred sixty degree turn. I didn't see anything out of place, and then Donte looked at me as if he didn't either. There was a van with some kind of dish pointed this way as we looked toward the roadway on the other side of the brick and block wall fence for this development. I brought my arm between the dish pointed at us and whatever it was focused on beyond.My arm tingled, so whatever they were attempting was working to some degree. Donte. More

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