Traveller Manifesto

Old Woman Island By Rob Shackleford   Keith’s reaction was predictable, that mix of hope that what I told him was true, and that the tale was real, and, of course, tinged with doubt. “Are you sure?” he asked dubiously, his face screwed up with his old policeman’s tendency to weigh the truth on whatever anyone told him. I could imagine, in his mind’s eye, the scales held at arm’s length by Themis, the blindfolded goddess of justice, were beginning to tilt into the realms of falsehood. “I have no idea,” I added quickly, almost reassuringly as I also wanted…