her hand is curled around the glass in front of her, a transparent liquid filling it to the top. her fingers tap it incessantly, with impatience or perhaps something else – something that she can’t quite put a finger to, something that she probably doesn’t want to. she watches him intently, eyes going from the piece of bread, back to his face. she hasn’t taken a single sip of the vodka, nor touched the bread that was left for her. she didn’t eat shit, but it feels heavy on her tongue. 

                “ Он коснулся ее, прежде чем я мог делать свою работу. Она не хотела , чтобы быть затронуты. ” she keeps the i failed to herself, ignoring the anger that fills her insides. she should have been FASTER. she should have been BETTER. she should have been more than she was, should have been more than she could have possibly be. she is made of marble. she should have never failed. THEY TOLD HER SHE WOULD NEVER DO SO. she completed her job, but her stomach churned at the thought of the girl in the bathroom, trying to clean away the PIG’S touches.