" Malet said stepping back with professional flourish."Not too tight across the shoulders?" He asked carefully.Kiyone surveyed herself critically in the three full-length mirrors provided. Still trying to 'get over' the current brand of strangeness.Events of the last few days hadn't given any of them time to think really, let alone adjust.One moment she was angrily discussing world domination with the queen and now the 'fresh' oddity of being fitted for a dress uniform!'Hand tailoring' while not unknown in the circles Key traveled, were more the province of the dirt poor, the mega-eccentric or the uber-rich.She, like Mihoshi occupied none of those categories.As detectives first and third class respectively however both police women had grown accustom to the usually stringent, off times almost insane budget restrictions imposed by G-P command.Particularly in the case of the directives suggested, and in her opinion 'bull-headedly' enforced by the quartermasters division!I mean good god!. There was a woman standing there wearing a purple knee-length skirt and matching blouse. She had her brown hair tied up in a bun and she was wearing glasses. She looked about 37 years old. “Can I help you?” I asked. I was going to tell her I was expecting someone or just give her $5 for whatever charity she was collecting money for. “I’m Angela,” she said. “Oh.” I looked at her, kind of disappointed. It’s not that she wasn’t attractive, or, to put it bluntly, fuckable, it’s just that after watching so many movies, most of them pornographic, one starts to get a mental picture of what a prostitute looks like. Angela looked perfectly respectable. As soon as I thought that, I felt an immense shame, but I just pushed it aside because my loneliness was also welling up and threatening to consume me. I thought maybe I deserved to be alone. But Angela was already there, so I might as well make the most of it. I asked her to come in. She didn’t look at any of my things, not even my book.
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