I flick back the pages 
of my standard notepad, 
sharpen my HB thoughts 
into a quill.
Try to look the part.

A quick scan of his eyes, 
searching for signs of deceit. 
Then head down to the task. 
Time to see with my ears, 
listen for that slight
give-away of delay.
A tremble on the lips.

Later, on the same day, 
after-images return.
Silent and chill remnants. 
A footnote in feint.