An Uncomfortable Senior Party  I'm at a sort of dance, ballet concert, or recital. There are different student performers. Cash prizes are awarded. The grand prize is $25,000. There is a lesser prize of $1,000 and many smaller prizes. The performances take place and the prizes are awarded. The top cash prize is not awarded. One young Asian woman is angry because she should have received the prize of $25,000. In response to not getting it, she gets up and does a spectacular performance that involves her reflections in a phone booth-like structure. A photographer shoots photographs and marvels at the images that are created by the woman. The woman walks up and down the steps in dim or dark light. There are many supporting dancers on stage. The auditorium, which has been dimly lit, is now bright. My friend Matt Yams is on one side of me. My friend Stephanie Peterson is behind me. A ceremony has ended and a reception is about to occur. I stand up in the front row of the seats. I have gas, which I'm trying to hold in. Stephanie bumps and pokes me. I blurt out a little, but noticeable, fart. She is disgusted, and facetiously says, "Oh, nice, Kenneth." I laugh, feeling embarrassed, but also glad that I let it out. I hold in more farts. Matt talks to me about the color of a particular fishing lure: how to get the reddish color deeper or better, using small cube-shaped blocks of red.  A senior party is occurring. People are given checks for thousands of dollars in fake money. They need to go cash them to get the money. I get a check for $13,000. It's actually worth about $98, which my family as paid for so I can enjoy the senior party. There are long lines to cash checks, so I wait. I'm in line for something. My grade school friends Eric Stoner and Mark Long, who is dead, are there. I think of Mark: is he real? I touch his shoulder: it is firm. I think he is actually there. The next moment he is gone, when I look. I say to Eric, "Did you see Mark?" I look on the floor where there is a scratch. I think this scratch is a sign of Mark. I look at it, concentrating, having a moment for him. Eric sees me on my knees, scrutinizing the scratch. He criticizes me. He knows I'm doing this because of Mark. My friend Stephen Ramos comes up to me and says he needs the $5 I owe him. I tell him not now. He repeats himself, saying he wants the $5 now! I reply harshly, "Not now!", because I'm busy. I leave the area and walk. I'm not in the main area of the party. There are not many things around. I walk through an area of Carter School, alone. I see my friend Marge Drummond and her brother Carl playing a makeshift two-person game of baseball. I walk alone, away form the crowd. I feel lonely and secluded. Later, I'm in line to cash a check, and tell Stephen I can give him the $5 now.