I didn’t think—I don’t know what I thought. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. I must go perhaps in all the rooms. . He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. gutenberg.
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