I work in a small law firm now. Lawyers, can you imagine? I sit in their glass-walled library, they watch me as they walk past, their folders tucked beneath suited elbows. They carry their fountain pens. They peer in at me, hunched over dusty volumes. I keep my head down, my eyes averted. How I have come to crave this solitude.

I compile lists of numbers, zoning regulations, ordinances. I draft agreements between municipal administrators and land developers. People dispute about right-of-way. Driveway privileges. Invasion of privacy.