"Life shouldn't fit inside a cunt."
She turned back to her story. Mother Angelica.
"But it does."
As usual, it was a curt nonsequitor from the mouth of grandmother that settled the morning dispute. Maria was going to work that day. Again. Like always. Because grandmother was right. She shouldn't have been so disappointed at the prospect of spending the majority of her remaining foreseen days enclosed in a dark, smelly sweatbox, plucking blossoms for others. In all its horror, it was still the mere natural order of things.
That is, it was until Maria's body began to talk to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The images soon began to take shape and form; the pictures began to tell stories. They began to change. A typical sexual image, a woman's breast, for instance, would age before Maria's eyes, the bright red nipples frosted with dead skin, the areolas crackling like dead leaves. A male hand plucks it away to reveal...a gum drop. The hand brings the candy to a mouth that chews and swallows.
What it meant, or even if it were real at all and if she were awake and not asleep that remained unanswered for Maria.
it's amateur hour
