Thousand: Six Hundred Sixty-Three

fingers. “Great,” she says pleasantly, pretending not to be about to fling the bottle across the room. The light from the keybox suffuses the water, and the girl feels like she’s trying to open a light bulb. She lays the keybox on the table. “There,” she says. “It will be so much easier to open this bottle when I am not holding another object.” This time, indeed, the cap crackles away from the security seal, and she is able to lay it aside and pour until the fizzing water splashes over the plastic cup’s brim. “How nice. It looks like