the smuggler’s bible

A map isn’t the land and lightning isn’t the dawn

Cover your mistake with a casual gesture. I know, I know, but you must comport yourself normally. The tears will dry, and the blood—well, best to ignore the blood for now.

Heartbreaking, isn’t it, to search out a betrayer and catch yourself dead to rights? But now that you’ve seen it, you are confronted everywhere. In shallow puddles, in the windows of passing cars, in the tinted lenses of her oversized sunglasses.

The threat is implicit.

Ah, there are the tears again. Take this, wipe them away. It would be such a shame if the view ahead was spoiled.