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crap, Claudia. Jesus. The court fines I paid when you lived with me during high school. That guy who set your car on fire in our driveway. After everything we’ve been through, some ooga-booga rock weirdo can come along and brainwash you just like that?”
    Sister is not receptive to meditative breathing exercises so I decide to suggest something a little more hands-on for her anxiety. “Sister, if I send you some special brownies, will you eat them?”
    CT passes by with the walking stick and gives me the thumbs-up, meaning he’s embarking on a defecation-stroll. I wave goodbye. Perhaps sensing my tension, he jiggles his dingy slightly.
    “Sweet earth for my loveworm,” he shouts, “I shall return.” Several flies are enjoying the streaks of grapefruit juice that ran down his chest and pooled in his groin and thighs. As he walks past me there is a loud unified buzzing; it is so cosmic, all those individual flies but just one buzz. It strikes me that it’s like my feelings for Sister—all the different harsh emotions could come out in one unified primal scream. I emit this into the receiver once I feel CT has ventured far enough on his defecation stroll that he will not hear me and fear danger has struck my physical person. CT and I do not like to use toilets-we only do this when we have to, like in super-posh hotels and backstage on television programs and concert tours. Sometimes the super posh hotels have double toilets and then he and I sit on them together, stare at each other, and try to predetermine when the other will flush, thereby flushing at the same time without ever looking away from one another’s eyes or communicating a will to do so. We have gotten very, drastically close to simultaneously flushing on more than one occasion. I’m pretty sure complete synchronicity is nigh the next time we are at the Plaza.
    “You blew my ear out. I’m hanging up.”
    Sister does not understand that her ears are already worthless. Their multiple defects predated my scream by decades.
    “Sis, if I want to ingest the most powerful hallucinogen the Worm Eternal has provided to earthlings and copulate with my soul mate beneath the desert stars, that is my business and my right.”
    “The balcony of your Vegas hotel suite is not the desert! Do you know how many photos there are of you plastered everywhere, how many videos? How is continuous sex for that long even possible? Did police really have to break into your room?”
    The vital fluid allows for radical love-energy. Management was charged for the cost of the door. “Sister, no harm, no foul.”
    “No HARM? You look like sex freaks to the entire world! You should see the faces you’re making! They’re not even attractive. I’m saying this objectively. You look carsick and blinded by headlights.”
    “It’s not about how we look to other humans , Sis. Third eye. There’s more to see than you think.”
    “Ugh, it’s on the TV right now.” There’s a long silence; I can almost hear her eyes squinting. “What the hell is that, a tattoo?”
    I decline to answer, as Sister wouldn’t understand. I recently had a bottle of wine tattooed on my mons.
    “CT and I got married,” I offer.
    Sister hangs up then calls back and hangs up again, then finally calls back and is sort of able to speak through the wheezing. I stare at the healing crystals I glue-gunned to my phone in the mirror, a sort of second-line of defense against Sister’s negative energies. Work , I beg them. Glow .
    “To that creep,” she sputters, “to that pervert hustler? Did you know he hit on me at Thanksgiving? I was putting the cranberry sauce into Tupperware when I felt a stiffness on my leg and turned around. He was down on the floor like a crab rubbing his...his...extension near my ankles. His pants were that new kind of denim, the stretchy stuff. I could feel everything.”
    “He is a wonderful lover, Sis.”
    “I can’t do this right now,” she says, and then hangs up.
    I stay