He grabbed her hand and put it on his dick. Slid it up and down the shaft and felt her breath blossom in her lungs.
It is exquisite to feel people become aroused.
Feel them wake up.
He slid his arm around her and up, grabbing her neck and her lips parted and she breathed.
He kissed her in the dark, bit her lip and the lights exploded at the same moment their nerves caught fire like a thousand electrical pin pricks and the walls collapsed and a bad wizard came into the room talking about maths.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey," he said at almost the same moment.
But the wizard ignored them and began drawing on all their things with a piece of chalk. Mostly vaguely quadrupedal forms, like sloppy rhinoceroses. He started humming.
"Was he just talking about maths?"
"Yes, he was talking about maths."
"At least I think so," he said and then they began eating each other’s hands and the wizard laughed.
Afterward the wizard drank a cup of coffee in their livingroom without walls. Looked about at all their things with little interest and mused quietly.
In the place their hands used to be were now funnel-like apertures that were throbbing with regular emissions. Snakes were slithering out, all sleek and gleeful in the night without sense and they felt good. It is surprising to feel good about bleeding snakes out of the place where one’s hands used to be but neither had any interest in clinging to denial and so they acknowledged that it was okay to be okay with bleeding snakes and unexpected visitors in the livingroom.
They might’ve been freaked out about it but they weren’t.
He wanted music but had no hands and a brief moment of despair loomed quickly on the horizon before being subsumed into the darkness of the snakes as they slithered toward the record player and put on a record, it was something he’d never heard before and that seemed strange.
That he’d own a record he’d never heard before in his own home
Or maybe the snakes brought it with them he thought while laying against the woman’s breast as she lay against a floppy mountain of silky pillows and they floated into the music which was like animal collective but far far slower and with no discernible words
like anco through a lens that distorted all its parts
like some other dimension’s anco, one with only minute structural differences.
But it was good he thought, like—but then the thought was interrupted by the sound of a hundred spoons falling from a great height and clattering on a flat, hard surface and he pictured the wizard upending their kitchen but the wizard was right there in the room with them.
He could see him. He was in the closet trying on her clothes and she was laughing but he couldn’t tell if she was laughing at the wizard and his hijinks. She had a faraway look in her eyes and seemed to be looking at nothing in particular.
He quieted his mind and fell into the rhythm of the issue of snakes from his wrists which seemed to follow the slow throb of the sobbing black and cabernet bassline.
He felt the air above him rushing.
They were floating above an enormous plane and there were hundreds of the wizard below them, stretching and doing tai chi like movements in unison.
They were giggling and looked like pixels on a grid.
Suddenly she was enormous and moved to remark on the discovery but all the breath was sucked out of her lungs and her blood iced and she snapped into a confetti of parts
He tentacled all her bits together in a pile and breathed on her until she melted against him and they held each other for a long, still moment against the tumult of light and confusion outside their embrace.
In the morning they had brunch, grapefruit and bacon and toasted rye slices, and never spoke of nor referenced that night again save to acquire a pet snake and name it “hands.”