July 13, 1968
by Amy
The spy is in place. I don’t know how it happened, and Glasses would prefer not to talk about it. The room was filled with people. Artists and writers constructing fliers. Lesley was standing over by the files.
Glasses passed me a note: “Ssshhhh! We got our boy. Information will come our way. Until victory always. Set fire when done.”
I understood exactly what it meant because I know what Glasses means. But set fire when done? Surely he didn’t mean that. I must have flashed him a look because he soon dropped a matchbook on my desk.
So I did what I was told. As quietly as possible, I went to the ladies room. I struck a match and set fire to the note. When the last of it burnt, I dropped it in the toilet.
It’s hard not to wonder about the details. But I also know that it’s best to stay out of it.
