Thousand: Six Hundred Sixty-Four

just the sort of thing that could save a girl from dying of fucking dehydration.” With the light pouring into it, the hundreds of bubbles sparkle like jewels, and the fizz swarming the surface incandesces with the cool divinty of an angel’s halo. The girl is not so transfixed that she doesn’t tip the whole glorious business into her mouth, gulping, though it burns her throat. Burns in a nice way. Scrubbing bubbles. And when the cup is empty she puts it back on the table and, before pouring again, the girl releases an immensely satisfying and noisy belch. She