Thousand: Six Hundred Twenty-Five

its usual routines have been interrupted. It doesn’t have an automatic next thing to do or say. The girl unfastens the buttons of her jacket and slides out of it, leaving the jacket hanging from the creature’s hand. She retrieves a few things from the pockets, the gold box with the ants inside, a placatory erector, her notes from the last meeting, coins, and the map. “I’ll leave you the glossary,” she says. “You might learn something.” She sidles around the unstirring figure and pushes open the door. In the hall she remembers the hair she recovered from the top