Passport

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He shuffled forward in the check-in queue, his passport gripped tightly in his fist.

6,000 miles was a long way to go on the off chance.

This time there was no pretence of being there to record the album. He was going just to see her.

To see if she felt the same way he did.

He took a determined step towards the counter. Doubt seeped through his veins.

6,000 miles was a long way to go if he'd misread the signs.

He took a deep breath.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

And he had oh so much to gain.

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