Little pieces of laughter

I felt it in a dream and fear stinks. He lifted up my right breast, looked at it, looked down at the raw floor, then, as if I were a baby suddenly everything was positive. I knew that he loved me. He was a perfectionist so the murder would be perfection, everything would be in order, it was worth being terrified. With my chained breath caught I said:

I can’t watch people with solid eyes hurt each other. Look, this is a clitoris. I think I now know the body’s differences.

Sound fell into atonal melody, like a screaming pig. We joined in the slaughter, we joined up our little pieces of laughter into joy, made a special red symphony. Then he punctured his tyres so he wouldn’t give in and try to escape his suicide. And we cried because we were so stupid.