Duran Duran's "Hungry Like The Wolf" plays on the shitty PA. The floor is packed fins to gills. There's no making headway through this crowd without a bullwhip.
Best as I can I squeeze between dancers and revelers. I'm trying to get out. It's too much -- I need to get outside and breathe.
I cannot escape the feeling of being watched from within by some great, unblinking eye. It stares through my thoughts, my silences, and my lies. It leaves me naked, sputtering on the floor.
No one comes for me, but I've heard they will.