The road goes on forever and the party never ends. And I have to dispose of this dead girl before she starts decomposing, and we really should have thought this through a little better. This party is killing me slowly. It’s a train wreck waiting to happen, and all I can do is look on in disbelief. I keep trying to figure out how to get all of these people out of my house. Like a fire drill or a stomach virus, or a dead body—you know, one of those things that instantly repels people. This is a crime scene, for heaven’s sake, and kids are playing pin the tail on the donkey, because in whatever fictional world it is you live in says donkeys and circus themes and dead girls in the back of trunks go together. Here we are shooting the bull with our neighbors, laughing and chatting it up, and wha
