A SHORT SPY STORY
NEW YORK.
NY gets stuck between your breath and your skin. I missed it. Smoke rose from the asphalt and flattened out under a jet of fresh air that blew higher up. From where I was, the smoke looked like a gray anvil rising from the ground. It was Christmas. Traffic had gotten worse. The lights were endless.
HUNTING.
There are hidden spaces in the city, hidden lives and darker windows where people's shadows quickly pass out of sight. I walked through the crowd to reach the chosen place. I stopped for something to eat and hid. The hunt had begun.