I was terrified. Superior yet terrified.
She was insane; she was miraculous.
She waved her arms. The poetry was terrible, the body and the madness weren’t.
Glendoline pulled up a chair and started talking. She could talk. If she was a sphinx she could have talked, if she was a stone she could have talked. I wondered when she’d get tired and leave. Even after I stopped listening it was like being battered with tiny pingpong balls. Glendoline had no concept of time or any idea that she might be intruding. She talked on and on.