I only wore a long-sleeve shirt, but I couldn't feel the cold - all I could feel was the loss. My hand unconsciously took hers, revealing the deep con...rast between our complexions. Where her soft, delicate, hand was pale and almost milky, my rough and calloused hand was a deeper tan, the hand of a working man. Neither of us wanted to let go and neither of us could say what might come. I felt heavy inside, a weight placed over my heart that would not be lifted for some time. I did not want to. It knows what I want. It… They… She, he? Nothing sounds right. “It” is wrong because I feel something more about it – something living. I don’t know what though, and even if I’m right, it’s so alien to me that it is impossible to relate it. Maybe it has no gender, but maybe it has lots, or strongly identifies with a gender I’ve never even heard of. All I know is that it is.When the beast touches me I feel only immense pleasure, even with the biting of needles and the soon crushing. More

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