Was she distant? Of course she was distant. When have you ever known her not to be distant? For her to do what she does, to be a commentator, a scientist studying group interaction, she had to be distant. I would see her every Monday, from five until six, sitting in the lysol-sticky visitor’s room, and she would methodically go over the amusing foibles of the institutionalized. Well for instance she told me about the demons. Apparently. It was a common thing for the girls to smear menstrual blood on the door or window, as that would attract The Wearer Of The Skull, who would enter through the cracks and have sex with them. No, a whole taxonomy. There were fuck demons, and give demons who brought stuff from the outside world, and snitch demons who would provide council. She would say this in her increasingly monotone tricyclic drone, staring at her legs at the edge of the table, and set forth hypotheses as to the truth of the myth. No, the word demon was misleading, she said, and would be better replaced by agent. She’d say that, and I’d give her my mirror-practiced nod, like I understood, like she would complete her investigation and she’d come home with me, and then I would go to the heavy locked door and have myself let out, and go home. I don’t think so. Well, I think you know who I blame.