Explore "Plague of Pythons" by Frederik Pohl on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Chandler had his empty glass halfway to his lips, automatically, before he realized there was nothing in it to brace him. He said hoarsely, "Yes, thanks. Do you come here often? " It was like the banal talk of a language guide, wildly inappropriate to what had been going on a moment before. He was shaken.
"Oh, I love it," cooed Hsi, investigating the dishes before him. "All finished, I see. Too bad. Your friend doesn't feel like he ate much, either."