Day 12: Ten more minutes

Harry Pearce is in trouble.

Big trouble.

And I’m sitting here, heart rate elevated, breath coming fast, as worried as if Harry were real.

Several months ago I discovered MI5. It’s running on the local PBS station. Programs from an early series air on Thursday nights at 9:00. Programs from a more recent series air on Friday nights at 10:00 and rerun Sundays at midnight.

I’m hooked. I watch them all.

The scripts are well-written, suspenseful, fast. They assume a modicum of intelligence on the part of the viewer.

And they’re unpredictable.

The writers kill their stars.

I’ve seen several go. One was dispatched just now.

I knew it was going to happen. A couple of months ago I read some plot summaries online.

I almost never read ahead, but in this case I’m glad I did. I was able to prepare myself. Knowing made things easier.

The thing is, I didn’t read far enough. I didn’t know Harry would be threatened.

If the writers did away with all the others, there’s no reason they should flinch at disposing of Harry.

So I don’t know what will happen.

And I care what happens.

Ten more minutes…