As I walked around the pink building, the chanting became louder and louder.
Finally, I saw it. Through an open window, the sound was pouring out.
“PROOF”
“PROOF”
“PROOF”
I ducked below the window, and as I peeked up, I could see inside. A group of well-dressed Angelenos was in the middle of a rhythmic chant-prayer.
“PROOF”
“PROOF”
“PROOF”
Proof of what?
The assembled group could have been found at any restaurant or fashionable club. They looked…normal. But here they were chanting some gobbledygook.
And that’s when I was spotted. Fuck.