Rushingupwardbreathgaspingsuctionhydroslidereverselights–
I roll off the table, hit the ground. Crushed sunglasses under my knee.
Mama tells me the cutoff point was supposed to be three minutes. I was gone for eight. It felt like days.
I’m out, I’m awake. I’m in an endless hall with a thousand comatose mummies on cots, lain out in dozens of rows.
We find a space at the side of the hall beside a spilled-over watercooler, empty and bone-dry. My breathing is wild and uneven. I suckle water from Mumshine’s flask.
‘Was it him? Was it really your father? You’re certain?’
‘Pretty certain,’ I tell Mumshine. ‘He did that thing with his legs. Sitting like a girl. It used to embarrass the s**t out of me when he’d sit in front row at our school pageant.’
‘I don’t need to tell you why he sat in
