Jobs, I've had a few.

Once I had a job in a little How Town. In this town were men the likes of which I have not seen since. Usually, I would see them in pairs, together but not really. Casually draped over the tables of outdoor cafes. Or just walking down the street. Or bumping into one another at the bookstore or library.

I had to work in the basement for security purposes, a very cushy basement, but the fringe benefits more than compensated and exceeded the pay.

They had the same name, so I called them Left and Right, and they understood everything I said to them. What a relief. They seemed to be un-warlike towards me, maybe even kindly disposed. They would chat lightly about current events and audio-visual equipment. Rain in my eyes later because of that.

The Right man wore thick, expensive white cotton shirts imported from Egypt and monogrammed. He never ironed them, not even when he went to expensive places. I imagined that he had a bed with sheets made of the same material with an antique headboard. I think he was a doctor, but he never said. Working, we liked to practice a secret form of martial arts that involved only the imagination. I was skilled at blocking, he at finding vulnerable places in the mental armor. The secret was in not destroying anything or anyone.

I ran into Lefty in the snow one night. It was muffled outside because of it, and sound was not even an issue. He said he was cold as a million snow stars fell on his eyelashes. I said he should probably go home then.

A few seconds passed. We said goodnight and goodbye.

I do not know if they were ever real.