Pollifax 17 Crouched in the rear of the van, Mrs. Pollifax watched their progress over Georgi’s shoulder. It was early twilight. The lights of the cafes in the tourist district spilled out across the cobblestones along with the sound of strident nasal folk songs shouted into microphones that distorted the sound. A few people strolled along the pavement glancing into shop windows, but once they left the hotel area behind them all attempt at night life was abandoned and the streets were almost deserted. They had driven for about ten minutes when Georgi said, “There it is ahead of us. The wall.” It loomed in the distance, an anachronism in this newly created suburban boulevard, an ugly Chinese wall cutting across their path, bisecting the road and forcing it to split to right and to left. The boulevard had a mild downhill grade. At the bottom Georgi braked in the shadow of the wall and turned, following it to the right. They came out in a broad square–“This is the front, the entrance,”
What do You think about Elusive Mrs. Pollifax (2014)?
