is a magnificent dancer. She performs pirouettes to the bar and passes after her first attempt so
she can later explain the legalities of torture. This ornery oracle scans rooms and documents from
left to right and right to left. She speaks every language but my native language.
And practicing my second language will not save me from the horrors accompanying
her swift gait and savvy social behaviors. My nemesis wears combat boots and moonlights as a
flight attendant with a 500-year-old samurai sword hidden in the cockpit, headed for
my destination. She is the reason dead sparrows appear on my doorstep, my car won’t start, and I swallow five pills every night to help me fall asleep.