life's not hollywood

sometimes life is disappointingly not like a film. all the amateur dramatics of yesterday didn’t lead to a hollywood ending - not great romance, nor a car chase.

the man took hank to the station. they searched the precinct and the coffee shops, then when the platform was announced, searched that too. no olga. hank was left on guard at the turnstile while the man searched the station again. still no olga. when the train left without her on it, the man drove hank to a police station so he could report his passport missing.

a few hours later, olga phoned the man. “i’ve taken hank’s passport by mistake,” she said. “it was in the bag with all my documents.”

the man told olga that he assumed she didn’t want to meet hank, so she could drop the passport off at our flat.

“oh, no, i want to see him,” she said. “where is he?”

not wanting to worry her by telling her hank was last seen at the police station, the man told her that he thought hank was going home after he’d finished searching in town, and sending some emails from an internet café.

late last night, hank called. “it’s all back on again,” he said. “we’ve made it up. can i come and clean on friday?”