chapter 1 we're all dying but we're amazed

Spitting, she strolls over to the piano. Beads of her pavement pyre are in flame. She sweats her cress off, smashes candies. That is, she's getting in see you, singing personals to late night anglers.

Standing in the corner, feeling, with lit up shop mannequins trudging ocean fields, a suitcase pantoum, a white, flying sea.