Excerpt from chapter 2 of my novel story Smoke.
In the midst of crowded London streets, Coronation day for George VI, May 12, 1937, Philip and Nathan have just witnessed the untimely death of an elderly man, right there on the sidewalk. As they depart from the scene, they are confronted by a stranger, who speaks urgently to Nathan:
“Sir, I need to talk to you. This was no insignificant man whose death you witnessed today,” the man insisted.
Nathan reversed his direction again. "I knew this man for about one minute." He looked intently into those large brown eyes, eyes brimming with a need to know.
“What did he say to you?”
“I didn't hear it all. It was more like a mumble than...Who are you, anyway? Who gave you permission to ask so many questions?”
“I am Itmar Greeneglass, and Paul Wallris was a friend of mine.”
“Well I am sorry for your loss, sir. But I must be on my way.”
“What is so urgent that you cannot soothe an old man's curiosity about his deceased friend's passing?”
Nathan’s decision to move forward was again arrested. “The crowning of an English king, sir.”
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