Author Notes: Hey macaronis, this story gets kinda dark. This story doesn't really base upon being spies. I took creative liberties by simply using the characters to fit a completely different story line. It takes place in the mid 1900s.
TW: Mild violence, small snippet of domestic abuse, mentions of suicide, and Josh being a complete jerk.
____
Fires have been raging across the nation and protests on book bans turn violent in turn. Notably, houses on a local town street has been set ablaze as firefighters exterminate the beloved novels owned by people who are calling this epidemic madness. They call for justice. Quote, "With every book destroyed, we lose our humanity. Once their all gone, we have no right to call ourselves human and the revelations that these precious books held will no longer spark skepticism. Our society is in danger of accepting things at face value. Soon, no one will question and lies will become truth spanning person to person. I fear for the worst as we lose our integrity."
Protesters broke the lines of security at one of these fires, killing two firefighters and injuring three others. They were heroically stopped by Captain Hallal who, witnessing what was happening, took immediate action. Onlookers describe him as heroic for saving his comrades while others report he was needlessly violent, injuring one permanently though their are no hospitals records that we yet have access to that disclose any sort of information. What a dystopia our beautiful world is becoming if simpletons cannot recognize a good man when they see one.
"Oh, pardon me, sir."
Joshua, begrudgingly lowering his newspaper to look at the man who had rudely bumped his foot, nodded his head in acknowledgement.
"No harm done. My foot is quite alright." He smiled at the stranger, quietly reeling from his stocky, miniature figure. His head look like a mop as it bounced languidly, black strands sticking to the outsides of his slightly lopsided forehead. Quickly, he looked past to the horizon, letting his eyes recover from the pain they had experienced with nice rolling hills and shadowy oak trees that passed by in a blur.
He had resumed his reading, crinkling his news paper slightly as the blurred font continued on. He puffed slightly from pride and the writer praised him. A hero. They thought him a hero.
"Excuse me, are you perhaps Mr. Hallal?"
Riding on a high, he beamed at being recognized, as he folded his newspaper for later and nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes," he said, "I am he." It took him a tick to realize that it was the same man from before. It was a little harder to keep his smile plastered on as he went on comfortably changing his posture
Putting a hand to his heart above his unkempt suit, the stranger grinned. "My god, what a coincidence! What a blessing from the Unamed God, that he may grant such an opportunity."
Joshua liked him now, no matter how harrowing he was. Something was off though. His smile was fine, even if it displayed ivory teeth bordering on yellow. Joshua knew when to appreciate a man's sincerity and it wasn't that disturbed him. Though this stranger's eyes crinkled, there was something off about them.
"Why, thank you, Mr..."
"Mr. Murray Hill," he answered, resting his arm on the back of the train seat adjacent to him. Velvety plush seats furnished the inside of the train, illuminated by the strong sunlight dripping warmth from the windows.
It wasn't hard to maintain a conversation with Mr. Hill because no matter how trifle the subject matter, it seemed that he had infinite knowledge of it. On controversial topics, it was obvious that he had a burning opinion for each and didn't mind speaking in verbose sentences that Joshua half listened to. It was one idea that caught him like a fish in a net.
