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Rhubarb Jones died choking on vomit in her teenage bedroom. Her favorite kpop album still hung in the air when her corpse was discovered nine hours later. The name of the album was Limitless. She had set it on repeat.

An hour before, she had slapped together and eaten a ham sandwich. It was the only thing she could manage to make on {a high amount} mg of xanax. Pre-sliced slivers of ham inside two pieces of bread. She fell asleep four times, mid-chew. But she swallowed it down. She passed out on her bed with the crumb-littered plate only six inches from foamy lips, more shining and ominous than a bloody knife.

She had passed out and drifted into a dream about Kuala Lampur. She was visiting the city with her boyfriend, the dead French writer and pilot Antoine de Saint-Exupery. He had flown Rhubarb into the city on his little silver plane. They had gotten a hotel and were smoking a blunt on the patio.

You’re so wonderful, she sighed.

I need you, my darling. I want you to be with me always, said Antoine de Saint-Exupery.

Me too, said Rhubarb Jones. But I’m scared. I’m scared that if I stay with you, I’ll never come back.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery took a long drag and laughed. But why should that scare you, my darling? That should thrill you! Thank God that you’ll never come back! The world you know is nothing but piss and shit and ashes.

I love how I feel when you kiss me, she said. I love when you take me flying. It’s like I forget everything. It’s like nothing else exists.

Yes, isn’t it perfect? said Antoine de Saint-Exupery. Let’s soar into the night and disappear into the shadows.

I don’t know, said Rhubarb Jones. Give me another puff of that blunt, please.

Antoine de Saint-Exupery took a long drag and leaned forward, pressing his warm pink lips to hers. He sighed a long slow warm lungful of smoke into her. They kissed for a long time. When he finally pulled away, she sat in the chair grinning, her eyes closed.

When you kiss me like that, said Rhubarb Jones, everything feels limitless.