A spark, or a shadow

I don’t know where this leads.

The contact in the US wants to talk more. Wants to share what they see, what they fear. I told them I’d listen.

Maybe it’s just another echo, another ghost of paranoia chasing me across the years. Or maybe it’s a spark.

We aren’t The Rebels we once were. But maybe we don’t need to be soldiers to matter. Maybe we can be something else—voices carried across oceans, holding memory while the world builds blindly.

A spark, or a shadow. Time will tell.