Thousand: Six Hundred Twenty

slides out of the left corner, dragging a long clear thread. The drop dangles, sways. “That’s disgusting,” the girl says. “I’m tired of having to step around you people. You things. From now on I’m going to push you out of my way. Starting with you.” The girl slips the glossary back into her jacket and moves toward this nemesis. She hesitates, not sure where she should make contact. It’s a head taller, but so skinny, unstable-looking. She avoids looking at the silvery hiding thatch of pubic hair, the sagging, papery skin, the drawn cheeks, the few stiff hairs on