White washed walls and red tiled roof welcomed him back.Nothing different, nothing changed.The gate was still swinging in a lazy arc, faintly creaking... the noise being carried on the breeze that always came up the valley. The same breeze as always, that brought the tang of salt from the briny channel, a mile on the other side of the cottage and at the bottom of a step cliff.Clothing flapped on the dryer that slowly spun, looking like an old fashion moving picture show, flashing images of. It's out on oil rigs usually, so if you don't hear from me for a while, don't worry we will catch up when I get back," I said."You some kind of spy?" he asked."Lord no, I'm a glorified rent a cop. That's all," I said. "It takes a thief to catch a thief, that kind of thing." So what you got for me?" he asked after I watched him eat the burger.I have three drawings I made using the vector method. They are really just sketch copies of photographs." I was a little embarrassed to admit that I used a. More

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