"Oh yeah, she was doing some real Kurt Vonnegut shit to me."
The other woman laughed sharply at that and I smiled as well, but mostly because I had no idea what the hell it meant. I was so perplexed in fact that I couldn't focus on the book I was reading.
Had the woman they were discussing been blaming her bad ideas on some made-up persona like Kilgore Trout? Or refusing to call to let people call her writing science-fiction? Better yet: had her lovemaking caused the woman in the subway to become unstuck in time?
I'd really like to know. Any thoughts?
