Winston looked both ways and behind him before he started to write.
“I think the Marxists are about to topple the government. Either they will win the election, or they will take it forcefully afterward rather than concede defeat. The rioting is just the precursor, legitimizing their violence in the streets …”
“Whatcha got there?”
“Wha—” Winston jumped up from the park bench and stepped away from the stranger, who assessed him curiously. “Where did you come from?” Continue reading “Chance encounter at a park bench”