Oh God. The smell just hit me.

What smell?

Unwashed clothes.

How long has it been?

A month.

Seriously?

Yeah. Mags has been really, really patient.

Oh God. I should apologize.

No. Okay? You should say “thank you” and never discuss it again. Alright?

A heave rolls over your body, like a cat getting tickled.

Hey. We can't throw up. If we throw up, it might never get cleaned. And then we'll be here forever in a puddle of vomit.

Wait. Are we getting out?

I don’t know. Everything has been going really fast for me. I haven’t processed any of it.

Hehe. Process.

Aww. I miss him.

We should have put him in the dryer before we died.