Double Indemnity

Double Indemnity

In the dim glow of soot‑laden streets,
where pigeons wheeze beneath the cobblestones,
the night folds secrets into pockets of mist,
and a danger lurks behind every turn.

Walter, a shadowy drifter,
flashes a smile that owes far more than a coat;
Phyllis, with a sparkle in her eye,
holds a contract that could split a soul in two.

“Double indemnity,” the solicitor whispers—
the clause that pays twice as much for certain death.
Two lives, a single micro‑scheme,
and an urban heart thunders with a promise of ruin.

The hum of the city swells with a quiet dishonour,
as the law’s hollow hands scoff at the price of sin.
A cup of tea, a glance out the window,
and the wind swirls the black ink of fate.

Fair and foul are lined together on the page,
the bullet clinks as a harbinger of verdict;
the tale finishes with a hush, a sigh,
the double indemnity— a final oath, forever lingering.