I ask are you fini­shed, you seem to want mine. There’s only time left to tell how the floors met the walls and we saw cen­ti­pedes all the time craw­ling across the car­pets which were green beneath the blue glass table which was a mir­ror with a plate of balls on it under the win­dows which on some days we clea­ned but not too well so we wouldn’t fall out like my mother did not but someone else’s mother did and she died but my sis­ter fell out once with a piece of cheese in her hand but she was so embar­ras­sed and asha­med she didn’t tell anyone and just got up after I had alrea­dy tried to com­pare with her how sex for us might be dif­ferent but then we got into trouble again and resor­ted to the cel­lar to tear each other’s hair out and teach tongue-kis­sing.