“Well sort of,” I said. He picked up a pencil and tapped it end over end on his desk writing pad. “When you say sort of…?” I had to come cl...an. “Last year we made a fifteen hundred pounds loss. First half of this year, we’ve made six hundred.” “Okay, so you’ve turned things round a bit, that’s good.” “Yes, I’m optimistic. I'm just in a bit of a tight spot, that's all.” Mr Campbell looked at me and then looked at his computer screen and tapped at his keyboard. I took the opportunity to study. On an on it went. A woman’s boot stepped on my fingers and then several heavy blows from a flail landed squarely on my ass to the chuckles of several. A man’s boot kicked my ass and I rolled nearly into the next line, but got back up quickly and proceeded down the line of shame, leaving the world before to submit to the new order of life. Finally, mercifully, my hand found the step of the podium and the beating stopped. The rituals now required me to crawl, battered and bloodied up between. More

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