The ground floor offices that we used the back office was full of old files and junk and seeing that we had a bookkeeper starting part time we had to ...lear it out. So in the afternoon we started going through the boxes of paperwork and placing stuff in piles we was working fairly close together and once or twice we bumped into each other not on purpose to start with I couldn’t help my self every chance I got I rubbed her arse “I said oh I’m sorry” “Elsa said what for” “ I keep bumping into you”. Getting closer I can make out the building in the hazy semi-reality of the flickering orange street lamps. It is an old building; firm Carolina red brick with heavy storm windows filled with colored scraps of paper, newspaper clippings and faded posters. It has all the qualities of an antique shop or a thrift store. I move closer. The street sign sputters against the empty night with a garish pallet of neon colors. First Street School of Awareness, it reads. I see a faded poster hung. More

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