Hope

Rosemarie found the give-and-take of conversation hope enough to continue her mission. She knew messages were embedded in the simple exchanges in which people engaged daily, so she listened with care and answered with even greater caution.

"How do you take your coffee?" A gingham-wearing woman asked.
TRANSLATION: The Agents know you've built a causeway.

"Sugar, please." Rosemarie answered.
TRANSLATION: I'm keeping the plans safe. They don't know how to shut the gate.

Rosemarie was vigilant. She couldn't take anything at face value, not even the cats and dogs roaming the neighborhood. The Agents had doubled their patrols. In the past week, Rosemarie saw the same dog chasing the same squirrel on the same corner precisely at 9:47 while on her morning walk. She had become quite the object of interest in The Agents' eyes, but no amount of surveillance was going to trip her up. Rosemarie had already brought over one of The Menders. He was sickened by how The Agents had destroyed and misused this world. Rosemarie was leaving the causeway open for the others to find their way.

Comments

[MarieAnnBailey]

I've read several of your "fleeting moments" here and Liked each one. Your moments may be fleeting, but your thoughts linger :)