She said softly, "I live on75th and Amsterdam. God help you if you're fucking with me, though." Believe me, I'm not," I pleaded. "When I tell you what...s wrong, you'llknow."She cracked a smile, "Well, this is getting good."I have no idea why I wanted to tell her. Maybe it's because of what hadhappened between us. Maybe it's because I knew her but, fifteen yearshaving passed, I didn't really know her. Maybe I just needed to tellsomeone, anyone. We came to her building, and walked up to. We had a man from the utility company who made sure we didn't get in trouble with the power lines, but we were using hooks already mounted on the poles, and they were a good six feet below the power lines themselves. We didn't have one of those cherry picker rigs like I was used to from the end of my first life, all we had were two pickup trucks with tall ladders.The lights we were stringing were heavy duty, commercial lights designed for outdoor use, and Mr. Bowles, the utility man, would hook. More

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