“See that man?” Sebastian would tap her on the shoulder on a crowded alleyway and say, “See how he lingers too long when he touches that little child? The glow in his eyes? That is lustful intent, my dear. “Because I know for a fact that she was having sex with Gary Rothko during homecoming Freshman year and she let him pork her up the ass. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed.
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