Jayde Brew

The Book of Names.

It’s always the same. Sitting here, waiting for my plane to board, I mentally check that I have everything on me. Phone, wallet, passport – check. I slip my hand into the inside pocket of my trench-coat, feeling the bulging envelope stacked with two hundred $100 bills. I sit back and close my eyes, breathing deeply. The airport is basically empty, I always fly the latest flight possible. I hate crowded places.