Tourist
Elias stiffened. "I like to be prepared. I’m only here for three days."
"It's not coming," she said, her voice raspy. She was wrapped in a wool coat that had seen better decades, holding a thermos.
For the first time since he landed, Elias didn't look at his watch. He wasn't a tourist anymore; he was just a man in a room, in a city, at a moment that wasn't scheduled.
He was so busy calculating the walking distance that he didn't notice the woman sitting on the stone ledge until she spoke.
