Thousand: Six Hundred Sixty-Nine

conference center. “What life needs is better narration.” She sighs and rubs her forehead. “And a toilet.” She raps one of the tables with a fist. “A pillow would be good. A mattress. Yeah. Long as we’re wishing. A way the fuck out of here.” Yes, there is an economy bag of tortilla chips, first thing she sees in the first bag she looks into. It’s the thin kind where half’s crumbs at the bottom and the whole ones break in the guacamole. The girl tears open the bag, spilling several chips on the floor. She sits on the edge