A central european city lies broken and divided. There are huge piles of bricks and the ruins of buildings. It is late, the scantily lit streets are silent, and the black and white world is full of long oblique shadows.
The word is out that Harry will make his run back to our side tonight. There has been a tip off and security men are waiting.
Which is our side? I reflect how odd it is that I don’t seem to have an answer to that question. Nor whether we, who are waiting, are here to welcome him. Or to apprehend him. Or worse. Because we all go armed. Perhaps the orders are to shoot on sight. We are all men here, and it is quite possible.
I have no idea what is expected of us, and I begin to realise with a sinking feeling that, if the situation arises, it is very probable I will simply take the lead from the others.
Nobody likes being the odd man out do they Harry? I remember The Third Man film too. I must have seen that film a dozen times or more, but the truth is that to this day I do not recall having ever watched it through from start to end.
Strange how the story is turning out, I don’t know what it is about, but the bit I do know is how it ends.
From somewhere a piano has started playing. It is that familiar central european theme tune, and it is being played over and over. I listen with a suspended feeling, simultaneously attracted and repelled. There is no end to this I think. The playing is mechanical but I notice that there are differences each time, slight pauses, or the occasional mistake with the notes that are played.
It is how Harry finds the way to say, And I am not done with my story.