After I had taken them home again I went back to my place about a mile away. I was just settling down for a film and some wine when the phone rang.“...Mr Chris,” the voice said, her Spanish vowels making it sound like Meester Crees. “Is Airis. I leave some books in your car. Can I come and get them? I have to study.”Half an hour later she was knocking on my door. I had retrieved the books, which were something to do with business finance, and we stood together at the dining table where I had put. I told Goldie to tell them to come here. There had to be a recording studio in Ocala or Gainesville. They said they would think about it. They evidently made enquiries and called back and said they would come to us. They were booking a studio and were making reservations for rooms and caterers in Ocala. They would let us know when they would be here. Mackie called and said she had been contacted about coming to Ocala to record some songs with Goldie. We invited Mackie and Tag and her kids to. My fantasy is to tell my wife I have a meeting to go to some Saturday and I will be gone most of the day. When I get there, the meeting is cancelled and I return back home. I see a strange car in the driveway as I go in the house. I don't see anyone but hear noises coming from the bedroom. Our bedroom is at the end of a hallway and the bed is right in front of the door. I look down the hallway and see my wife with her legs in the air and a black ass pumping in between them. I get an instant. Even the vaunted academy, one that no thief wishes to attract the attention of, is being challenged students and scholars targeted and looted of memories. For this master of the masters, each and every mind is like a house, with halls and rooms to explore, the vast collection of artwork, furnishings, candelabra and statuary. Books stored on shelves, some empty and blank waiting to be filled by those memories to come, others filled ancient and new. Almost without fail, this home of the mind.