A short story in three scenes.
The father shakes his head. “Not yet. Look.” tito v
He paused. Outside, a nightingale sang. He thought of the split with Stalin, the roar of the Non-Aligned Movement, the way he had held a hundred different nations together with will and charm. He signed the letter with a single, sharp stroke: Tito. No title. Just the name. A short story in three scenes