Kratzin's Restaurant had become a tourist attraction. People were ordering food and asking about Jesus. Dahlia answered their questions. The pain continued in her hands, feet and head, and a deep empty throb shook her heart. This pain never let her forget who she was and what she was, even though she did not understand it. How could she be two people at once? Her wounds were like staples that held them together.
"I hate this fucking Goddamn job," said Tanya, a new waitress.
"What's wrong?" asked Dahlia.
"They hate me. They're so disappointed that you're not their waitress. Sometimes they tell me they need another minute to decide and they're gone by the time I come back. I can't believe it. I can't deal, Dahlia. I can't deal!"
Object: telephone