Then, I was out the door.It was a cloudy, overcast day, the kind I like. My kind of San Francisco: misty, mysterious, the scent of salt water in the ...ir, foghorns in the background, cable car bells in the distance. I left Green St. and headed downhill on Jones St. toward the Embarcadero. At any moment I expected Sam Spade to step out of the shadows. He didn't, but a few moments later, a young woman in her twenties did. Our paths crossed briefly as she got into her car, an old beat-up. I didn’t care for the thought itself, but she was accepting and complying without resistance or without my having to push a thought to her. She started to take off her clothes and throw them in a pile, showing me her imperfect body. I wanted to test her and see what she might do at this point, so I told her ‘I want you to put your clothes outside the tent flap so you’re not tempted to wear them again.’ She looked a little concerned ‘But then someone might see them and think something….’ I cut. More

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