The second time you and Maria have sex, you decide to take your shirt off for her. She dims the light to the lowest setting, as she had done before. The process itself is a mechanical one, a complex one, yet one which runs smoothly, as though rehearsed. She rarely changes her facial expression throughout, except for near the end, when she emits a high-pitched hum which resonates throughout the adobe-colored room. Then, it is over. You lay next to her, a comfortable distance away, for the agreement strictly outlaws cuddling after the act is complete. She licks her lips. Her tongue darts along the corners of her mouth like a snake searching for a mosquito. The silence is seemingly impenetrable, though you know that it is merely a silence between two people, and that silence is a man-made concept, which you are perfectly capable of breaking. She is the first to get up, reaching for her shirt, sliding it over her head, then marching off toward the bathroom.

“Perfection is a term created by people who are insecure themselves.”

- Rachel Valasseur

On page 58, there is what seems to be a clever phrase describing today’s society. When you tell her this, she does not seem to care. The agreement prohibits close-knit friendships. Trivial friendships, however, are acceptable. Page 62 gives a Robert Garrett quote which can apply to a wide array of scenarios. You are searching for a quote which describes the events of the past hour metaphorically, but have found none. Maria is showering. The scent of cucumber body wash drifts under the door like a river of vapors. She is singing to herself in Spanish. Maria is a vibrant, ethnic woman with a heart like a pricker-bush. If you get too close, she’ll give you an infection which leaves you begging for mercy.

“La puerta!”

You close the book and approach the closed bathroom door, which is shaking violently as Maria pounds on it.

“LA PUERTA!”

“What about it?”

“The doorknob fell off!”

“For us to understand one another, we need to understand ourselves first. If we know why we are here, if we are convinced that we know, then we are wrong, and nothing but a babbling imbecile.”

- Eric Holmes

When she eats, she eats things cold. Maria likes refrigeration, that is her oasis in the desert, her little safe-haven. She told you once that she can picture bacteria growing on food, she can imagine the germs humping away at each other, even though she knows they don’t do such things. You make her soup that night after the two of you take down the bathroom door, and she slurps it with rattling lips. If it weren’t for the agreement, you may find that to be a turn-on. The agreement prohibits sex more than once a day.