It was on the first floor. Across the street was a six-story workshop. When I was working overtime at night, I was alone, sitting in front of my desk, looking at the MM across the street. I had the urge to slowly touch myself up, but I didn’t dare to shoot. Later, I went to the sixth floor across the street and, wow, I could see through the window, but I was fine. Even if they saw me move, they wouldn’t know what I was doing, so if they saw me, how would they work in the company?
