To me, they meant nothing — they were part of the scenery, they lived, they suffered, they died, under eagerly watchful eyes or alone and forgotten ...�� but she, she, she had become my obsession. I learned to stay still. To take off my clothes, to recline on a not too uncomfortable piece of furniture, in a not too uncomfortable but revealing pose, to keep my eyes open, and to stay still. There was no one to reveal myself to, there was no one into whose eyes to lock my gaze, I looked into. At this point I could still have carried on walking and gone home but I looked round to see if I could see anyone I knew if I had I would have carried on but no one was in sight and I just looked at him and said "ok" he smiled and said "come baby girl" and walked into the office I followed and he took my hand and walked past the pool table to a door at the back which he opened and led me into a narrow dark passage, at this point I became scared and thought what the fuck am I doing I turned. More

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