“Do you think me cruel?” Neith asked. “Oh, yes, I collect the pockets of my enemies.”“Horrifying,” I said. “I didn’t know demons had pockets.”“Oh, yes.” Neith glanced in either direction, apparently to be sure no one was eavesdropping. “You just have to know where to look.”

“Oh, lord. I was beginning to think like Neith. Soon I'd be huddled in an underground bunker eating army rations and cackling as I sewed together the pockets of all the boys who'd jilted me.”

“You never know!” Neith snapped. “The point is, I’ll survive the apocalypse. I can live off the land!” She jabbed a finger at me. “Did you know the palm tree has six different edible parts?”“Um—”“And I’ll never be bored,” Neith continued, “since I’m also the goddess of weaving. I have enough twine for a millennium of macramé!”I had no reply, as I wasn’t sure what macramé was.”

“When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know."Oh, sure you know," the photographer said."She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything.”

“Where are you?" he asked. "I'm right here" she said. "I know, but it feels like one percent of you is somewhere else, where is that one percent?" he said. "I don't know....I think I'm always like that..." she answered. "I like that." "You do?" "Yes, because that way, I have to always look for the one percent to find it.”

“I did win, you know,” I said.“No, you didn’t.”“Yes, I did. I knocked you out.”“Stunned me. I wasn’t unconscious.”“Oh, please, save it for the preacher. You were out cold.”