She would write to Gerald. Then suddenly the curtain would fall. From beginning to end it was first-hand stuff. She felt surges of longing escape every corner of her flesh. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. Her tears dissipated as she began to convulse, completely devoid of any spare fluid. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now.
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