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The Cover of Her Notebook She carves spirals in her tattering notebook with a ball-point pen. From a distance they look like bullet holes. Coffee cup stains form dingy half moons turned into manic smiley faces. "I [HEART] (a hundred scratched out names)" scribbled in many different inks like a life's work. She has a twitch or tic like a wildness tugging her face. She tosses a smile that hits me like a drop from a water torture machine. Hungry flames lick the backs of her eyes. I know that this is trouble even as my mouth opens to introduction; even as I burn my hand touching hers. I glance down at her notebook, noticing she has crossed out the last hearted name.
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