Henrietta, you're awake again, and all mighty here it goes crawl to the bathroom door to write at the bottom-this is the end 'n you think this is what its like, last nite you turned around, pirouetted actually to see your great love of Will sitting on a couch dressed in white leather holding your stolen camera he says is broken and he's with his best friend who you also love because he's crazy eyed 'n just like you crawling on the floor inventing words, vomiting like babies unable to digest everything Here you are Henrietta, much much later, still looking at the end written on the bathroom door, now you know what it feels like and still there's so much more. Already you have on new gloves, each finger knitted in a different color and decorated with a boggle-eyed face and tufts of yarn hair sprouting from the tips, one for each finger, five, ten, waving and fanning them about, adoring them