As I reach into my bag Kathy's pharaoh slips himself around my pinkie. Kathy's keys unlock the pharaoh's tomb/a foot-thick door made out of desert concrete swings open/stale air rushes out/the angry dead spirit has been waiting 3,000 years for an unwitting fool like me to spill a drop of blood on her sarcophagus. When I got back to San Francisco I ran over to Bed and Bath and bought the same electric sharpener that Matias has. WARNING reads the instruction manual KNIVES WILL BE SHARPER THAN YOU EXPECT. I core an apple and slice into the pad of my right thumb, dead center across my fingerprint. The bleeding is extravagant, bright red--drip, drip.
-Dodie Bellamy
