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Towards the End

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Mass hysteria of global proportions.

‘People’ lined the streets. There were doctors, lawyers, construction workers, the unemployed, high-brows, the man, children, gamblers; all of them nude or on their way to it. There wasn’t any sense in looting, it was too late and senseless for that.

I stood watching, taking it all in, every last bit of it. That was the best that I felt that I owed myself. I must’ve looked slightly clergical standing alongside the curb on Flamingo Drive.

I was ready for it, the ‘people’ weren’t.

Around the time the dial struck 11, I felt the atmosphere thicken in a wave of heat. And then, there she was; a woman no taller than my nipples, yet she stood and stared me eye-to-eye. She shared the same patience and content.

Her grocery cart still contained tommorrows meal, tommorrows bedding, and tommorrows toilet. When I looked in her eyes, I knew that she knew that this was it. The last few moments of this mysterious gypsy women were existential. No panic or hostility; she was managing her daily chores, living every last second as she had years past.

Quite unfortunate for both of us, she stopped within reach of a few brisk paces. I would not be denied her love in this moment. I grasped her worn mesh sweater over each of her shoulders. Her lips puffed like a sheet on a clothes hanger, in a slight breeze. With it was a plague-ridden breath, it was the smell of what the aftermath would be.

I poured my tongue into her mouth like molten lava. Had she still brandished teeth at her ripe age, they would’ve certainly pierced and maybe dismembered my linguistics-bat as she gummed forcifully. I probed her mouth discovering dental hazards and miracles at every pitfall. Tonguing between molar cavities and gingivitis, degenerated pallete and missing roots; there was the slightest taste of booze at the back of her throat, and I plunged deeper, groping weighted breasts all the while.

I tasted all of her. She was run through the gutter and I could tell you type of sewage. Her hair was moldy and I knew from which storm. My tongue met hers and frolicked, wiping away the coat of film it had, soothing the open sores beneath.

I couldn’t immediately tell her reaction to this affair…

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