Sometimes I’m so enamored with what I write, I just sit and read it over and over. I’ve been working on a story this week, “The Road to Durrës,” about an Albanian guy who gives a ride to a couple American tourists. And there’s one bit that I just can’t keep from giggling over:
Mhll walked over to John and Grace, who had been arguing a short distance from the car. “My friend Bashkim will drive us to Durrës.”
“No,” said John. “We’ll call for another taxi. Or catch the bus.”
“No bus tonight,” said Pjeter, coming over to join them. Bashkim trailed behind him.
“Well, we’ll…we’ll walk.”
“John, don’t be ridiculous.” Grace folded her arms across her chest and glared at her brother.
“What’s ridiculous? They probably intend to rob and murder us or something.”
“If we want to rob and kill,” said Mhll, frowning slightly, “would not we already do that? Why wait and waste the whole rest of day?”
“Because, because,” sputtered John. “I don’t know. Easier to hide the bodies?”
Grace rolled her eyes. “I’m getting a ride. You and your conspiracy theories can stay here and wait for the bus if you want.”
“No bus.” Pjeter’s brows were furrowed as he tried to follow the conversation.
“Listen,” said Mhll. “You have choices. You get ride with us, you walk across mountains, or you wait all night until bus comes tomorrow.”
“Mhll,” said Pjeter in Albanian, “there are no mountains between here and Durrës. Barely any hills.”
“Big mountains,” said Mhll. “Filled with wolves.”
John swallowed. “I guess we’ll take our chances with you.”
I just see keep seeing the scene, the broken down car and the 5 of them standing around it, Mhll lying through his teeth. And I giggle.
Let’s hope an editor likes it as much as I do.