The Spy Who Shushed Me

“You’re one of us,” he whispered. “I won’t blow your cover.”

A.T. Thomas
Age of Empathy

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A silhouette of two people inside a bubble, holding up their fingers like guns.
Photo by Anton Lammert on Unsplash

I was late for my yoga class — so late that I figured it would be rude to enter. I stood outside the door, unsure if I should stay for the next class or go home.

I’m habitually late, but in this case, I was also worrying about my teenage daughter. She’d been suffering strange symptoms — extreme fatigue, muscle weakness and difficulty concentrating. Normally a competitive athlete and good student, she suddenly became too sick to train or study. The doctors had no answers.

Silly as it sounds, I didn’t know what to do. I needed the exercise, but my heart wasn’t in it. I just stood there. The decision making part of my brain seemed to have simply decided not to decide.

I’d also never just hung out at my health club. I usually got there late, took an exercise class and hurried home. That day, I’d left my cell phone in my purse in the car. I couldn’t even entertain myself with internet nonsense.

While I was busy not deciding, I absentmindedly rummaged through a nearby magazine rack. I picked up and opened a Newsweek magazine.

Suddenly, I realized a man was standing next to me. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, but I suppose I had just been too distracted to notice. I’d seen…

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A.T. Thomas
Age of Empathy

Skeptical lawyer/former lobbyist. Concerned about biodiversity and climate change. Ally to those with ME/CFS, Long Covid and similar diseases.