Miles looked up the table, which was thin on attendance for the Production meeting this morning. Rocket looked a little pensive. Splash seemed to be pleased to be awake for some reasons he was not sharing.T ough he had been smiling at Holly when the bagels came in with Keith, who rolled through on his was to the “Np Kings” ralley prep over by the former HQ at Big Pink.

Then there was muffled laughter coming from the Galley, though there was no indication the girls chose to join in the morning gathering. The look on every one of the faces in the crowd shared stark lines of concern, both the faces at the Conference Table and on screen.

Miles rose and spread his arms wide, pointing across the lower row of figures.
“These six young men were all arrested in our fifteen minute counties in the last month-and-a-half of this wacky winter. They were drawn in a detailed, cross-hatched style according to my instructions to the AI machine. I checked with Legal and they say if we avoid using names we can say that the alleged crimes range from assault and battery, sexual abuse and two cases of outright murder. They are all here without legal documentation and some have been arrested more than thirty times during their uninvited stays here in our neighborhood.”

“Legal says if we call them something that sounds innocent it will help us think they arl. Like the gang-banger across the river who was called “A Maryland man” in the coverage of his arrest for deportation. He actually waas an MS-13 human trafficker and wife beater. If we just say something that reflects something universal about them, like ‘they are our neighbors,’ we can avoid trouble. Although why we are not just taking them out back and doing something simple is a little beyond me. The term for these miscreants today is “Neighbors.”

There was some shuffling at the table as they thought about the house-newly rented by some young men down the road from Boro Place where the Trillium sits. They had hassled our Pastor Frank and his cadre of church-goers last Sunday on their way to the Fairfax Chapel for Frank’s weekly session of Good Words, Gospel and Gossip. Not overtly menacing, mind you, just a little line drawing around the new residence.

We accept that. We keep our lines well illuminated and expect people to mind their own business. The young men have expressions that are calm and faintly content, some with a subtle smiles and relaxed eyes.
The drawing of them has a hand-etched or pen-and-ink look, with dense line-work creating shading and the individuals can be slightly rotated, giving it a tilted, stylized presentation.

Which is exactly where we found ourselves this afternoon. Miles looked down the table at the two Boomers who bracketed the midsection where the remaining pastries remained next to the field-service coffee jug.

“Which way can you rotate it?” asked Splash, shaking his head. “I imagine circular is probably do-able, but can we try a fore-and-aft version for our yachting tales to go with the new advertising segments?”

Miles smiled at the one. “I think we can make the connection to where some of us will spend the afternoon, right boys?”

There was laughter at that remark and Splash took a lazy grab for the last sausage roll on the battered silver platter. Rocket just laughed at the shape of the afternoon.

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