The Taprobane
Two people, one night in a hotel.
I lowered the lids of my two suitcases, snapped the clips shut, and turned the keys in each lock. With one last glance around the cabin that had been my home for three months, I hauled the cases into the alleyway where my steward waited silently. “Right, Francisco, take them down to the taxi.” He nodded, slow and solemn. “Yes, Sahib.” I slung my soft leather holdall from the bed, climbed the stairs to the next deck, and k...
