She...September 7th

"What happened after that?" He asked.

She twisted a strand of hair around her finger, bit her lower look
averted her eyes (O Lord!)
then said,
"What the fuck do you want me to tell you? What? That I probably lost my fucking mind and that this one lost her mind and that one did...?"

She sat on her knees, rocked back a bit; filled with some kind of
repressed?-anger?
Only, not repressed because it is always there.

"Do you want to hear about the sex or the drugs first? Because there was no fucking rock and roll! We had no fucking electricity! What do you want to hear?-that I managed to keep my fucking nervous breakdown in check while everyone else fucking fell apart around me?" She paused. Thinking. Her mind drifted and she lost her train of thought.

He had a shocked expression that he tried damn hard to conceal. Didn't work.

"Did you want some endamame?" She had left the spit of rage in the previous minute. The minute that will never happen again.

"Yes," he answered, "I would."