Page 168
By Jack Joseph Smith
clamor her face had forced it's way into some feel-
ing, but then he had watched her pale back into prac-
ticality. Now he focused back her appearence as a ques;
that he had come to call on technology; and not on
theatre. He had come to call where courting was con-
sidered an instrument, and not a sensation.
He had followed his guide through short second scenes
of chambered desks; and young balding men caught up to
their necks with white on white starch; and red green
and yellow Pepsi ad texture ties. As they came to the
final door; his guide took him gently by the sleeve.
The Mr. in Jiven Joe carefully remembered now the thick
carved wooden door he had entered after the quiet twist
of his guides hand on the brass knob; From the metallic
heart of I.B.M., General Electric, and Xerox he had pass-
ed precisely from the motivation of his throat into the
sealed elegance of the modern executives survival from
witness.
The seven or eleven men at a long mahogany glossed
table had stood up from their chairs; and leaning from
their midsections had shook his hand with introduced
grins. His reflections were how they had all been diff-
erent representations to him; The business man, the in-
tellectual; the physiologist; and the master of cere-
mony's, of course; The aids had been watchers; who's
position it was not to converse;