She drank herself into someone else. She was silly. She was stupid. She tripped over herself to go nowhere and sat up when they said her name. She was fine, she was flirting; falling all over herself to find words that were even less there then the people she fucked. They left her hanging on the arm of any man rich enough to buy her a mix in a martini glass. She was herself to the exclusion of herself. She had learned to dwell with pleasure, as a beloved daydream, on the thought of the separation within herself. She left with the first man to offer and woke wearing nothing but yesterday on her weak, slender shoulders.
See if you can find the “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” quote! :D