Troubled side of the World: 1

Pamela was tired and annoyed. The interrogation was going on for hours now. The liberation front officer spoke broken English,  the room was hot and dusty with the rusty floor fan in the corner doing nothing  more than disturbing the fly, who was exploring the stain on the desk until the fan was turning to blow on it. Then the fly would take off , whizz busily above for 10 seconds and  then land back to continue exploration. 

- so, you don't know who whisked you from the crowd? - the officer asked again. 

Pamela was tired of giving the same answer. "Jesus Christ,  she thought,  - I should answer Jesus Christ,  I prayed and my savior descended from the cloud to save me from the furious crowd and dump me then shocked and unconscious in an abandoned mall a few streets away". That would have been a bad answer in the middle of Muslim uprising. Her thoughts  moved back to the wild events of what seemed like years ago but was in fact just yesterday.  "I'll come back for you,  beautiful " - these were ones and the only words her dark-eyed savior said.

Yesterday

Marie and her boyfriend were playing cards. Not too serious  game interrupted with bouts of laughter.  It was a calm afternoon and  small shops aligning the street were buzzing with the usual  activities.  Failing economy left too many people unemployed. But the capital was never poor and while  older residents were falling back to their overseas bank accounts,  the youth was savoring early  autumn filled with kindly warm sun, distant sea breeze and honey colored shade. Marie, Paul, and Pamela came to the  Capital  from Athens, out of all places, rented a small shop space and started trading in all things hippie and new age: shisha pipes, tarot cards, healing stones, and indian amulets. The trade was never good and never bad. Tourists were still flocking the country impressed by the kindly and liberal Shah ruling the country in the middle of other fundamentalist nations.  Local people, always known for their hospitality and kindness, treated foreigners like dear guests, sometimes marveling at unusual  clothing,  seeming freedom of thought, and the like to the ancient civilizations of Greeks, still respected I  this part of the world. 

The traveling trio were graduates from a technical college.  Not finding any passion to technology and unwilling to grind in front of a computer for meager salary of failing Greece, Pamela and friends  decided to live free, remain true to themselves and never pledge allegiance to country or person. Among that they stayed unwaveringly true to each other. And while Marie and Paul were a couple since kindergarten and never saw the point of exploring  opportunities outside, Pamela changed lovers according to her mood never worrying about loyalty or family planning.  It was like that until she met Alex. An American summer school student who came to Athens for his journalistic training. Or, to be fair, to savor the richness of Mediterranean summer and the luxury of turquoise seas and brilliant  skies.

Alex

Alex loved stories. He would gather stories wherever he went, which that particular summer in Greece was mostly the beach, marina, surrounding basketball  courts and coffee shops. Life was relaxed.

Alex's school task was to write about tourism, which he interpreted as any relaxing activity found in and around  Athens. Pantheon and ruins, he reasoned, has got enough coverage to never require another word to be said. While the youth at the beach, gathered from all over the world, local, refugees, escaped from the classrooms,  was all rage. 

---to be continued...