Wednesday, November 30, 2005
The horrible hands wriggled ever closer, dragging their stumps behind them, creepy, bloodless forearms severed at the elbow. How ghastly they looked - entities beginning with those mindlessly clenching fingers and ending in dried, dangling nerves. The fingers balled themselves, dragging their burden forwards, then flexed suddenly, causing the appendage to lurch through the air the length of a thumb. Ciro tensed. He stood stiff as a statue staring at the hands. Perhaps if he remained absolutely still they would thump on by without noticing him. He couldn't bear the thought of those fingers touching him. He'd just as soon shake hands with his roommate after one of the fellow's messy masturbations. Absurd side-thoughts snapped into his brain. The hands had taste. The black color of the fingernails was quite becoming, better certainly than the ghastly color of the vacant veins behind them. And the bracelets decorating the wrists, suggestive of pretty students he'd seen hurrying from building to building at the university. His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a tugging at his pants legs. They were upon him, climbing his pants! First the left hand was closer, then the right. To the waist. At the torso. Climbing his shirt. His terror grew with each inch of proximity to his neck - for he was sure they wanted to strangle him. His roommate burst into the room. "Oh there they are," he said, swooping in and snatching the hands from Ciro's shirt collar, from whence they dangled. "I was putting my build-a-girl robot kit together," he said. "The hands must have crawled away while I was screwing on the breasts."