You pack up typewriter, lighter, coat.
Back to wire-tapping—no more fizz, no lies.
But one last meeting, out of habit.
She raises a glass, says, “To peace, finally.”
You nod, confused, then hear nothing—no sirens.
Just clinking glass and calm skies.










You pack up typewriter, lighter, coat.
Back to wire-tapping—no more fizz, no lies.
But one last meeting, out of habit.
She raises a glass, says, “To peace, finally.”
You nod, confused, then hear nothing—no sirens.
Just clinking glass and calm skies.









