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She hung up the phone and closed her eyes. Never minding the fact that her friend hadn’t even waited for her to agree, there was one question running through her head. What was she going to tell Miranda? *The door to the grocery opened and Helen stepped inside to the chiming of the old, mechanical bell. Every time she did so she felt like moving through a time portal. The wares were still in the low shelves she remembered from her child days, and the air was filled with the same mix of smells. Warm bread, sugar, fresh fruits and cabbage mingled and took her back to better times. She needed to buy some vegetables, as Miranda tended to go for meat and pasta when she brought lunch but used to forget about salad. She picked a few ripe and soft plum tomatoes, two onions, and was just about to reach for a yummy looking head of lettuce when somebody bumped into her side."Sorry," They both said simultaneously, the other voice sounding young and melodic, and somehow familiar. She turned. He tried a side sweep and I bitch slapped him. Mister Corbin had come out of his office just as his assistant went down. He had seen the attempted side sweep and the landing on his ass of Feldman. "Stop this." he commanded.Feldman got to his feet and blustered, "Next time." There will be no next time." Mister Corbin was trying to defuse a situation that I was not going to let go of."There will be a next time," I argued. "He will try to sneak up and catch me by surprise. And when he does I promise you I'll send him to the hospital. He's a loud mouthed punk." What is this all about?" Corbin asked. "You have never ever been in a fight before that I know of. Just what exactly happened?" It was nothing," Kevin said."The hell it wasn't. I contradicted him."First this ass hole accuses me of drinking," I said."I did not." Feldman denied."You sure as hell did. You said you wanted to check our breaths. Remember?"Mister Corbin gasped and started to choke."Then you called me a queer, or did you.
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