344 East 134th Street Apt 6c

Bronx, New York 10454


August 3, 2001


Dear A,


I am at a juncture, an intersection. It’s a curious location. Perhaps I’ll move to another city.


Today, a woman in a yellow skirt sat down at my table at The Internet Café, and began to engage me in conversation. Something about her was strangely familiar. I mentioned that I had been working for an international employee placement bureau, as a profile analyst. She asked me what a profile analyst does. I told her that we provide job seekers with questionnaires appropriate to the positions they are seeking, and then, after analyzing the data, make suggestions to job counselors about who should apply for particular listings. I told her that I had recently resigned, in anticipation of being fired. Someone would eventually have discovered that I was reconfiguring questionnaires to produce atypical responses.

   "Did you witness any unusual hirings as a result of your interventions," she asked? I said that it was impossible to tell. Catching my eye, the woman asked what I was staring at. I told her I couldn't decipher the two black shapes on the opposite facade. "Are they crows or diamond shaped windows?"


At the next table, Esu-Elegbara was exploring Internet sites, looking for material for a story he was writing about African kingdoms and the civil rights movement. He looked over and greeted us, his eyes shining as he watched the woman finish her drink.