Chapter Twenty
The air in the storeroom was full of pink globules the size of the nail on her pinky, some of them clumping together, bumping into the wall, sticking to the ceiling vents and the outside of the plastic containers on the shelves. They floated everywhere except in the cage with the geese, which had probably eaten any of them that came close enough. They were also still attached to the cactus fronds. More of the damn things floated loose all the time.
These were the things Tina had assumed to be fruit when she saw the cactuses yesterday. But they weren’t. They were foamy, without a skin or other structure. They were bubbles of foam, formed into globules in weightlessness.
Was this the same pink stuff that Vito was spreading? Without further analysis, she would say yes.
She
