?’ I said in surprise. ‘Who the hell are you? And where did you come from?’ Susan just stared in shock, as if she recognised him. ‘You!’ Sh... said. ‘I thought you were a dream.’ ‘In a way, I was.’ ‘But who are you?’ I asked again. ‘I was supposed to be Miss Susan’s guide onto her next plane of existence, but you appear to have forestalled that. How?’ ‘What do you mean ‘How’. All I did was talk her out of jumping.’ ‘Just by talking eh? Interesting’ He looked at something on the clipboard. ‘Miss. It was unusual because it had nothing to do with me to the untrained eye. It seemed like a normal sentence, but I lingered on it. I began to realize it was a test, a suggestion almost. Once I realized that, I understood better what he wanted. I quickly emailed back- something I rarely do - "I want the tv. When can you bring it over?"This was going to be different. He had sent me gift cards of $50 or $100, once even $200. But the tv was $3000 at least. And it was going to be mine. I wanted it,. Jenny was the store's saleswoman. The goods were souvenirs made locally by artists and craft artists. The store was located in an idyllic village. The village was a popular tourist destination. The day was a beautiful summer day. Jenny had learned that the store became hot on such days. When she had heard the good weather forecast on the radio the night before, she had decided not to wear panties under her skirt the next day. She had taken the chance that the smell of pussy sweat would not. This was after all Detroit. The body of another homeless woman wouldn’t even make the headlines. I looked in every direction for a place to bolt to and realized that I had no choice. I darted into the rushing traffic of Eight Mile’s wide expanse.With a few angry drivers blowing their horns at me, I made it to the island that separated the eastbound traffic from the westbound traffic.The two men trailing me looked at each other. They realized as I did the danger of what I had just done. People.