082513 #trout ZoE walks in, naked above the waste. I feel lethal. I stare at him until he comes over to my table. He holds his knife in his fist, and he slams it down. It quivers in the rotten wood in front of my eyes. I sit here, comfortable in my festering high-backed chair. The flowers are singed, the arms are frayed. ZoE breathes like a stallion; his taut little nipples scream hello.