Her face vibrated under the gas mask. I sat at the table while she towered over me. She adjusted the heft of her bikini top, leaned back on the heels of her boots. Her hip lines led to a tight slit under dark denim. I closed my eyes, pulled her scent through my nose, into my lungs and held it, letting it go like I was exhaling exquisite smoke. I said a teacup fell out of a man’s locker and shattered on the floor at the gym. I tapped a hard-boiled ostrich egg with a spoon. Her face was still vibrating under the gas mask. I said the man just walked out, left the shards on the floor, someone could have cut a foot. She said shut up. I leaned over and kissed her belt buckle, slowly pulled my lips off the cold metal, turned my head side to side and watched my reflection twist in its shine. She stuck a stiff finger between my pecs, pushed me back and said why would a man have a teacup in his locker and I said I dunno and she gave me a boot to the face. Sent me hard to the floor like I was a teacup. She said you’re a fucking liar and x y z motherfucker. I sat up on my elbows, wiggled a loose tooth with my tongue, tasted blood. She pulled off the gas mask, shook her raven hair, ran her fingers through it and sat in my chair, legs in a wide straddle. She screamed and sent the giant egg crashing through the window. She pounded the table. I said nothing. She stuck a fork into the faces of tiny animals. Her face was still vibrating as she chewed. I looked out the shattered window. Dark, still clouds bruised an iceberg blue sky. She stared at me, eyes like fists pounding on my chest till it split open and poured everything I’d ever hidden from her into a thick, glittering puddle on the floor.