Brian gazed at Simone's jacket. He counted shiny darkness and counted shiny steel. This woman programmed ATM switches by day; she also went to dinner ...n studded leather. And her skin was like snow. Like a logo of innocence. And her eyebrows were poets. Incredibly incredible. In the eloquent terminology of a unenlightened era, Simone was a fox.So Brian felt all of maybe... eleven years old. As nervous as a boy on his first cop-a-feel. He conspicuously looked over Simone's shoulder and quietly. ”“If you could oblige me in both areas, I would be more than grateful and could return to sanity and my work.”“I’m amenable to both,” agreed Inkie. “I’m tasked with a mission that may require some assistance, but that can wait until your freedom is obtained. How many concerts are needed to ensure everyone who wishes may attend one?”*Author’s note: Background for this segment may be found in the story Don’t Blame Me! http://storiesonline.net/s/13564/dont-blame-meAs it happened, four concerts. More

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