The Holter Recorder

A sales office in Los Angeles on a warm late afternoon, sun through venetian blinds laying bright stripes across a grey steel desk, a man in a short-sleeved white shirt standing at the desk seen from directly behind, face turned fully away, on his belt at the back a flat brown grained plastic case ten centimetres across with gold slide catches and a gold belt clip, two thin grey wires rising from it under the shirt, on the desk a second case lying open with its lid tilted away, a brushed aluminium deck with two small plain tape reels, one clear and one dark, a tape head and a rubber pinch roller.