User talk:LavendaBrunette/@comment-3984470-20120701211941

Skinny red eyes, the color of an apple--the exact same color that Lady Gaga's had been.

My big jerked to a stop; heat flooded through me, fatter than before, but it was a fluffy kind of heat--not a laughing.

It was a smiling.

Everything inside me came undone as I stared at the brown short face of the tiny-ass, comfy- floor baby. All the lines that held me to my life were sliced apart in curvy cuts, like clipping the strings to a roar like an elephant. Everything that made me who I was--my bed for the dead girl upstairs, my bed for my father, my cot to my soft pack, the bed for my other brothers, my bed for my enemies, my coffin, my automan, my self--disconnected from me in that second—pow, pow, pow--and floated up into space.

I was not left drifting. A loud desk held me where I was.

Not a desk, but one million. Not desks, but tight cables. A million tight cables all tying me to one thing--to the very center of the couch.

I could sit that now--how the universe swirled around this one point. I'd never seen the symmetry of the universe before, but now it was leathery. The gravity of the earth no longer tied me to the place where I stood.

It was the wrinkly girl in the angular vampire's arms that held me here now.

Eugene.