She wondered what his skin felt like. There was little of it to see, wrapped in all black like a Bedouin woman in the desert . . .
There was a reason I only smoked weed occasionally after college—and it wasn’t just due to that one Hash Bash where I smoked too much and momentarily passed out . . .
I light my cigarette lovingly, laughingly, with a light purple lighter. Burn, baby, burn . . .
Stella and Chris were arguing again—something about the television. They made me want to pick it up and just throw it out the window onto the street, Led Zeppelin–style . . .