Thursday, March 13, 2014
Seedy Bond
One of those higher chains where the furniture waxed,
and the food matches.
"Tell Ed..." begins the older man.
"that the gray goose is dead," adds the younger.
The former's next whispered line gets stepped on by a woman
in a dress hugely flowered. She hears acutely, a family trait.
"Count feathers for a bed," he almost gets out as she blurts
"Espionage!"
Both men laugh. Nervously. The older softpedals: "Just a folk
song, Ma'm."
They leave shortly, separately.
The younger texts midwestern.
The older answers lard.
Labels: CIA, code, folk, hearing, operators, secret
