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sailing out the doldrums of the moving

July 11, 2013

I heard a small sound and suddenly felt that I was not alone. I turned around, and in the doorway stood two young men with beards and sideburns, dressed in black and wearing flat hats and sliver spectacles. My heart stopped.

They stood looking at me mildly, and I realized that this was in fact an office, and that they clearly expected me to do something about it.

“Hello,’ I said.

“Hello,’ the taller one replied, “we are here because we are wondering if anyone who works here is Jewish.”

My lineage on my dad’s side is rather dubious apart from Irish and Cherokee, but while I do not really know for a fact that I do not have any Jewish blood, I certainly do not know that I do; and I was the only one in the office, and am almost always the only one in the office, and will continue to be the only one in the office for lo these many days.

“Not…that I am aware of…” I managed, and they blinked mildly at me again and thanked me and left as suddenly and quietly as they had come in.

I know that they are gone but I keep having to check over my shoulder every so often.

I am

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