"my name is --"
her garbled brain made no sense of the nonsense
the interrogation room was too small
(silver, claustrophobic, unwise to rest within)
focusing on a single point proved
difficult, even for a mere second
a case file, filled with pictures
and documents, brimming from each side,
slapped on the table, forcing her attention
oh no, oh no, oh no, the thoughts raced
the bloody straw hat
the red-stained overalls
the bile in her stomach rose
to her throat, threatening release
swallowing the grody liquid
she whined, "please tell me that isn't --"
"newton fig"
she puked