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Mr Cole stands in his black suit beside the street waiting for 12 o’clock taxis. His right hand holds firmly the grip of his umbrella that covers him and his black hat from the hot sun. In his left hand is his briefcase containing papers of land agreements. His shadow stands narrowly alongside with the exact posture of him.
He is looking at a lady dancing at the other side of the street with her flimsy gown blowing up that her underwear is barely shown. Mr Cole, for a while, looks away from her and stiffens his gaze to the ground with his eyes getting swollen by the scorched asphalt. He again looks up to blink his eyes and sees the lady standing motionless and her gown blowing up still.
He crosses to the other side of the street and walks up to the lady to tell her her dress is revealing her invaluable secrets. As he taps the lady’s shoulder, she turns back. Mr Cole throws his briefcase up letting the papers fling up into the air. His umbrella gets scattered on the street and his hat follows him for two inches before it drops off his head. He runs back, holding his chest, patting. He looks up again and starts babbling “no no no no… “.
The lady isn’t a lady. The lady is Mr Cole’s neighbour living adjacent to his apartment. His name is James, he is a man and he is now mad.