Status Updates From The Girl With Brown Fur: Ta...

Every day was the same: to lie on the plankish bed after class, to fall asleep with propulsive force. At six-thirty in the evening she would wake, mouth dry, full of a sense of rawness—herself—with the ivory shell momentarily gone, and in its place lay the inadequate barrier of her skin, so permeable or disappointing.

this book is really painful to read....and not in a good way. I don't like being left completely confused at the end of a short story. there is good confused...something to think about and then there is this. words slapped on a page.