She held the drink her right hand, letting her long dress sift through her other hand's fingers.

************************

Once, in reality she smiled to herself and, glowing, her white teeth shone through the mirror towards the window, hitting the water outside with a Mediterranean force. An orange on the table. They wanted the Shakespeare by her bed: a large ring of dust had settled near the binding. It wasn't their decision to step around the clothing, their dirty shoes rubbing grime into the silky cloth, tearing the thin pieces. She grabbed one of his hands and held on for support, words blowing like wind around her ears.