#199 Heathrow Victim

At Heathrow I spot a couple eating breakfast who look like they may be Christians.

I ask them.

Excuse me, are you Christians?

The man, dark, majestic, looks like he could be a preacher.

Well dressed, handsome, with his equally elegant wife.

Yes, roars the man with an American twang. We are.

Praise the LORD, I say, and launch into my Christian missionary anti sex trafficking deported human rights worker sob story.

It works.

The preacher hands me a crisp, new, twenty pound note.

I thank them and walk away, delighted.

Bless them, Lord, I pray.

Bless their family, their friends, their health, their futures and their finances!


Have I found a way to survive, living on the streets?

Have I found a way back to Cambodia, to my Razor and little Coco?

I keep a steely eye out for my next victim.

Thanks, Mr. Fox!