(Dedication for this work is to SOFREP brother Eliran Feildboy)

“Sam, come on man. What’s the next thing you know? Ol’ Jed’s a millionaire. Right, man?”

But Samuel Booth gawked at me with the emptiness of a brood divine.

“Ol’ Jed’s a millionaire, Sam!” I repeated for my own whimsical benefit.

And Sam extended an envelope to me for my particular benefit. I allowed my fingers to pinch it as he released it and dissolved into the raucous clamor of the souk. I had my head dipped to the letter in my hand, not seeing the point in the crowd where Sam had slipped away.

“No, no more … nevermore,” I denied in my mind, though I may have actually said it out loud; out loud in a tiny whisper. I let my arm drop to my side and swing to and fro, then sat heavily on the round wall that bordered the Muhammad Cinq fountain.

My mind drifted into the absurd realm of the ridiculous as it raced to portend the nature of the envelope — I ripped it apart. In it were typed instructions to proceed to the city of Kenitra. I cursed my recklessness because I had thrown away my map of the country earlier that day thinking I was at the end of my journey. Now, at the end of my line, I was painfully aware that the journey must go on. To aggravate my stupor was the following edict: