Sex is an extremely subtle undertaking, unlike going to the department store on a Sunday to buy a thermos.
She's letting out her feelings. The scary thing is not being able to do that. When your feelings build up and harden and die inside, then you're in big trouble.
A friend to kill time is a friend sublime.
Until the bitter end, the emptiness inside her was hers alone.
Killing time is not an easy job.
Memory is like fiction; or else it's fiction that's like memory.