[The fruit in her own hand already has a bite in it, the blood orange. She looks at the one beside her and her strange appearance. She wonders if the ears are real, a comment she keeps to herself, but might be heard nonetheless thanks to the fruit.]
It's fine, it just feels-
[Weird. She thinks. Her sentence again left unfinished.]
i. thread the needle
It's fine, it just feels-
[Weird. She thinks. Her sentence again left unfinished.]