She had a lisp. A beautiful, painful, convulsing lisp. She said, “Should we start?” And I listened to the muted whistle her tongue created with her stupid teeth. I stared at her and said, “Girl, you know you gotta watch your health.” And just like that, she bit me. With those stupid fucking teeth. And her tongue brushed my shoulder, leaving a wet mark.
A second ago you were stepping into college with your lungs full of fresh air. A half minute before that you were stepping into high school, and an unhooked brassiere was as close as you were going to get to Paradise. Only a fifth of a second before that you were a small kid with a ten-week summer vacation that lasted a thousands years and still ended too soon.