So she lingers by the MRI machine, musing as she does on the agonies of symmetry recording the water's randomness the magnetic bones settled like reading glasses on the other modynamic face of the universe, registering each bloom and burst of molecule before it transforms. Once it translates the last of the water's heat into numbers, she takes the printout in her right hand and fits the key of it into the lock of the letter-strewn sheet in her left.
Words are fun.