My eyes raced around the room. I realized that among the men there was a lone woman seated in a chair on the far side of the room. She was wearing tight blue jeans with white sneakers and sat with her feet and knees pressed firmly together. Her head was bowed and her long brown hair almost covered the hands she held clenched in her lap. The long hair hid her face, but couldn't disguise the ample swell of the breasts that were clearly outlined beneath the white cotton of her T-shirt.
I began to move towards her. Like the others, she seemed to sit in a pool of light in the dim room. For a moment I thought that she was an oasis of sanity in a situation that was increasingly strange. Before I had taken more than afew steps, she raised her head, and I realized that I knew her. I saw her every day.
She was me.