A Curious Scenario in Three Parts.

First there's a part where I'm told by my co-worker not to lie too close to the edge of the sink or risk electrocution by other means. I inform him, as I have on prior occasions, that none of the wires have been stripped, unless he knows something that I don't, for example. He sniffs and walks haughtily into a doubles match from which a return is never in doubt. The way his shirt hangs is not particularly to my taste. He thinks he invented a style of walking which communicates a veiled contempt. I find it somewhat amusing anyway. Please don't tell him that these concerns are part of my thought process. He might be inclined to start slipping and no one can afford that, at least not during the present crisis. Take it from me.

Then there's a short break and most of the others split into short groups of twos and threes. This is usually the point when I make a break for it and try to have certain things memorized in case I'm questioned at the gate before I've had a chance to speculate on my role in an upcoming robbery on our sister campus. It's well understood that I've been volunteering at a wounded bird sanctuary. My mentor there has taken it upon himself to needle me about my abrasive (as he calls it) accent. I try to show a lot of understanding, but there is such a thing as limits, is all I'm trying to say.

When we re-assemble in the hours just before dusk, everyone notices a pleasant odor and comments to each other on the need for a new beginning. No one knows what steps could be hoped to bring this about, especially when our numbers are declining rapidly. The hope seems to be that if we assemble in a nightly mass, breathe as one and synchronize the appearance and movement of one or another body segments, this will give us the confidence we need to fabricate a circle of care which will redound to our faith in a resplendent touchstone. I seem to remember that I myself have one but know that letting this information out could spell my expulsion from the problem. This isn't something that fills me with any kind of glee or delight. But for my previous involvement with the Hare Krishna Organization, this is the first time I've been near more than three persons and not had them sneering behind my back. I still need to lose five pounds. Wish me luck. Get lost.

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