“Two things cannot!” She looked down at the table. “Bread and water cannot share the same space.”
“Yes they can. It’s called soggy bread.”
“Earth and air cannot share the same space.”
“Yes they can. It’s called a duststorm.”
She stepped closer to me. “Two people cannot share the same space.”
“That’s called sex,” I said.
“You are wrong. Water cannot be a part of bread. Earth cannot be a part of air. You cannot be a part of me.”
“I’ll prove it to you,” I said. I cupped the base of her skull in my hand and closed her hair in my fist.