Arlene Voelker

When I approached the warehouse, the event was in progress. I carefully made my way to a darkly lit corner of the room and was on edge, but at the same time growing comfortable with my new situation and surroundings. Glancing across the smoke filled

room I saw a petite figure approaching the corner in which I stood . She spoke in a

whisper, to me I thought, but I realized after a split second that she had not seen me and

her agitated sounding voice was directed at no one in particular. I caught a glimpse of her

face as she past through the light. She was deeply scared on her left cheek and across the

ridge of her nose.As she walked closer I noticed that she dragged her left leg as if it were

numb from all feeling. She spoke in a random assortments of words with a weird nasally

voice almost impossible to understand. Even her stance was bizarre. Then two new figures appeared from behind a door, one being a man that appeared to think very highly of

himself as he strutted over, in a black trench coat, to speak to me. By now I was disturbed

and not at all receptive to what was occurring, but I perceived sounds from several

people. Some one in drag, it appeared, was warning me or trying to worn me over the

music.The guy in the trench coat asked me if I was aware that I was not supposed to be at

this underground celebration? Their was a slightly threatening sound to his voice as he

pressed his face closer to hear my reply. I answered his question with a note of

understanding and left the room in silence. Faint insulting references to myself could be

heard over the music as I left the underground.