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What
's
the
word
?
In
the
dirt
is
a
shining
spot
of
gold
,
and
I
kneel
down
to
see
.
What
's
going
to
happen
next
,
I
do
n't
know
,
I
tell
Marla
.
It
looks
like
we
've
both
been
dumped
.
In
the
corner
of
my
eye
,
the
space
monkeys
pace
around
in
black
,
each
one
hunched
over
his
candle
.
The
little
spot
of
gold
in
the
dirt
is
a
molar
with
a
gold
filling
.
Next
to
it
surface
two
more
molars
with
silver
amalgam
fillings
.
It
's
a
jawbone
.
I
say
,
no
,
I
ca
n't
say
what
's
going
to
happen
.
And
I
push
the
one
,
two
,
three
molars
into
the
dirt
and
hair
and
shit
and
bone
and
blood
where
Marla
wo
n't
see
.
THIS
FRIDAY
NIGHT
,
I
fall
asleep
at
my
desk
at
work
.
When
I
wake
up
with
my
face
and
my
crossed
arms
an
my
desktop
,
the
telephone
is
ringing
,
and
everyone
else
is
gone
.
A
telephony
was
ringing
in
my
dream
,
and
it
's
not
clear
if
reality
slipped
into
my
dream
or
if
my
dream
is
slopping
over
into
reality
.
I
answer
the
phone
,
Compliance
and
Liability
.
That
's
my
department
.
Compliance
and
Liability
.
The
sun
is
going
down
,
and
piled-up
storm
clouds
the
size
of
Wyoming
and
Japan
are
headed
our
way
.
It
's
not
like
I
have
a
window
at
work
.
All
the
outside
walls
are
floor-to-ceiling
glass
.
Everything
where
I
work
is
floor-to-ceiling
glass
.
Everything
is
vertical
blinds
.
Everything
is
industrial
low-pile
gray
carpet
spotted
with
little
tombstone
monuments
where
the
PCs
plug
into
the
network
.
Everything
is
a
maze
of
cubicles
boxed
in
with
fences
of
upholstered
plywood
.
A
vacuum
cleaner
hums
somewhere
.
