Some stories shouldn't be told.

This one might be one of them.

True events rippling through Virginia, Washington DC, and Boston all the way to Israel. Set three years prior to 9/11. FBI involvement (or should I say lack thereof). Mysterious characters. International travel. Terrorists.

When I look back at this time of my life, I'm less surprised that I don't sleep quite as well as most people, that I jump at noises in the night more frequently, that I always check the upstairs when I come home to an empty house, that I'm always looking behind me when driving to make sure I'm not being followed.

It's not that my life is anymore interesting than anyone else's. I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong person.

I'll be somewhat surprised if publishing this doesn't get me waterboarded.
Or made into a movie.
I'm obviously hoping the latter.