Glossing the crowd, within these white walls, I am a Trojan Horse. One by one they will slip from me. Triggered by words, forced out through smiles, as I orbit hors devours, they emerge from my ears, clasping strands of blonde hair, shimmy to ground, fanning outwards through dress shoes and high heels. Outward they go, working their mischief. And I, wandering, will be empty.