Tag Archives: Black Butterflies

The Black Butterflies: Chapter eight December 22nd, 1992. We all woke up late, the next morning. Arlene was up first and I filled her in about last night, while she finished up breakfast. Patrick joined us a little later and informed us that he had some men sweeping the house …

The Black Butterflies: Chapter seven  December 21st, 1992. The house did not start to take on the feel of Christmas until this day. We had more or less breezed through the weekend.Some of the plans that we discussed were in action, the surveillance of our one main lead so far …

The Black Butterflies: Chapter six  December 18th, 1992  Four days later. I was in the house waiting for everyone to return. I had paced the area of the study, my room and the living room enough times, and I was sure the floor was wearing away under the soles of …

The Black Butterflies: Chapter five December 14th, 1992  I stayed at the house alone. I could not call it home. Not that I was uncomfortable at all here, but it did not feel right for me to be attached to something that was not mine to get attached to, not …

The Black Butterflies: Chapter four December 10th, 1992  There was a moment or two of confusion, when I floated back to reality. First thing was that sun was streaming in through a window, directly on my face. Even before I opened my eyes I could hear the faint flutter of …

The Black Butterflies: Chapter three  December 9th, 1992.  My watch alarm sounded at 6:00 am. This was the only connection I could make to time and date. My night had been without event and dreams and for that I was grateful. Agent Anderson opened the door and peeped in. “Good …

The Black Butterflies: Chapter two December 8, 1992. It started to rain around the fifth of December, and kept at it for some days well. By the eighth it had slowed considerably, but the cold, dark atmosphere still hung around. In fact as I stood with my black parka zipped …

Wired868 concludes Chapter One of The Black Butterflies: A Trinidad crime novel My car was rammed from behind again, and this time I screamed out, more in frustration than fear. I could not lose these guys I thought as I took another corner. I had now lost count, as all …

“Sometimes I think my friends, like death, are all that I am sure of. And I have thought about it a lot. Will I die for them if I have too? Will they do the same for me? Is there any sacrifice, that might be too great? The answers I …