In Over Her Head by Elsie Russell - Parnasse.com

and―"
"Sure, control is the artist's dream, not just audience
appreciation―"
"No! no control. That's the beauty of it!"
"Okay, so, manipulation. Like Elvis. Or Rasputin, Hitler, Stalin,
Sun Myung Moon, you know."
"Well, not exactly―"
"These super low sounds of yours create a unified mind body
experience, possibly for the first time in some of these people's lives,
and then it shatters it with emptiness and they're just not ready for it.
Manipulating people's emotional states on a mass scale, that's
dangerous stuff. So. Nobody approached you?"
"Was I ever approached by spooks? Is that what you're getting
at?" Penny stiffened. She had dismissed this creature as too self
absorbed to be that on to her.
"Spooks? Hmmm. Okay. But E.L.F.'s are unknown territory,
like electromagnetic fields, so maybe I was thinking more in terms of
the, um, you know, health hazards?" Ula looked away.
"Oh, yeah, gotcha, I guess. I'm sorry if it bothers you, but the
building manager must've mentioned there was an experimental music
studio down here," Penny said, yawning and pushing away from the
table. "If it's okay with you, I really gotta get some z's. Bathroom's over
there."
Ula nodded obligingly, slid back into her bag and zipped herself
in.
Penny opened another file cabinet and pulled out her old
boyfriend K.C.'s sleeping bag, now hers. Cabela's standard issue, lined
with leaping flannel Bambis. She unrolled the bag over the raw
concrete floor. Usually she just collapsed on the futon and went to
sleep, but a night on raw concrete demanded a little padding, so she
bunched a sweatshirt for a pillow.
The two of them had snuggled together in this old bag on a
cold floor as hard as this one, at the back of his dad's garage/barn, in
the classic seduction scenario. He tried upgrading to the back seat of
the Ford pickup, but the fumes and the greasy vinyl killed the mood, to
K.C.'s complete bafflement. He grabbed the sleeping bag and threw it
at her along with a barrage of obscenities and she stomped home, bag
under her arm. Next thing she knew he was off in his pickup to Alaska.
What a prick, he was cute enough except for the chin zits, but he could
barely read, making newspapers impossible, and there was no T.V. way
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