Across the mountain pass, between the scattered trees, a shadow lurked. It had been there since they’d left Gjorahi, following them from a distance, always hiding, never gaining on them yet never falling back.
Nabin and Bibek, chasing an interview deadline, had at first simply pretended it was not there. But with the fog rolling in and a white darkness soon about to descend on them, anxiety fuelled their curiosity.
Through his camera lens Nabin tried to steal a glimpse of the creature while Bibek, immaculately dressed even in these conditions, opted not to kneel down on the fresh layer of snow. Instead he peered into the distance as if he were an enigmatic film noir hero, his notepad in check, just in case some story might emerge from between those pines.
They would miss that interview deadline, in all likelihood. But they didn’t care.
This, the thrill of the maybe, was what being a newspaper man was all about.
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