Before those bodies drop, I am at his shoulder as two more bodies lift their heads and shoulders and raise their guns from behind smelly fish-cleaning...counter-height troughs. I see you in slow motion. My measured, even breathing doesn’t change. My expression doesn’t change. I sense their rodent-like vulnerability to this woman. These miserable misguided men who so hate women struggle fiercely, desperately now, before me for their lives, but unfortunately for them, they move in slow motion in. He looked at me and smiled. His eyes roved downwards, pausing briefly on my boobs, which were squashed inside my yellow pullover and then settled on my legs. I was in tights and my shortest denim skirt. He looked me in the eyes again and apart from actually saying, ‘I want to fuck you,’ his face told me everything. I had butterflies and I think he was getting a wood on, but he was carrying a sheaf of papers, which strategically hid the vital part. “OK Danielle. I better be seeing if I can be of. More

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