The same waves, Marla reflected, that might have crashed against the Gibraltan shore on the other side of the straits, waves that were as much Atlanti... as they were Mediterranean. Each wave fierce and restful at the same time, built up slowly and steadily out at sea to break sometimes on themselves and sometimes against the concrete jetty that projected into the open water.She glanced down at the postcard on her lap, the same one she'd started writing half an hour ago and had still not got. "I may be getting ready for some more pictures, Mark. Maybe tomorrow afternoon," she said and I told her that would be fine.Then, the next morning, Michelle came in my room and woke me up."Hey, get up, I've got some news for you, little brother. Some news I think you'll like. Get showered and dressed and come have breakfast, you'll love what I've got for you," she said and left me wondering just what lay ahead for me.So, I did exactly as she asked and was having my bowl of cereal when she came. More

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