Thought.is

It’s around Thursday when my best friend Bea decides to have a Victorian séance. “I think it’ll be fun,” she says. Bea defines the world in terms of ‘fun’ and ‘not fun’. She is the kind of girl who throws wilfully obtuse theme parties, such as a ‘Reproduction’ bash that involved vases of eggs and barricading the door to the college dorms with pink and red papier-mache. At the climactic moment of the party, she burst through the door and screamed, “I’VE BROKEN THE HYMEN!”