MCP4 I ignored her eyes because they were suddenly too intense.

“You’re fine,” She said. “But I’m Not the friendly one.” Her lips had gotten fuller, as if filling with venom, because when I did meet her eyes I was disconcerted by what, or who, or how many whos! Were behind them. I think I hear her growl, very low, and make my exit. And that’s the kind of drug it is, I truly feel I’m creating this exit, the hall or maybe an anteroom, into the next room, with another couch, and another sole being. Who may be multiple. I can no longer see the room or couch behind me, because the past is not a thing I do stuff with. I congratulate my insight, realize it wasn’t myself, and freak out just a tiny, tiny morsel.