1. In the year 190, I resided in a university dwelling across the street from one Dolores, who I built in the frame of the unoccupied unit, whose window mirrored mine.
2. I cut a hole in the top half of the curtain; a flaw I didn’t stick around to pay the university back for. The bottom section shielded mine bed, where mine body rested and mine eyes gazed to the gap, through to one realistically darkened residence, but one fantastical portrait of mine beloved Dolores. She stood seven feet tall, with light brown hair of mid-back length.
3. I used two fingers around mine clitoris and the other hand to squeeze mine breast to make mineself come.
4. A cicada carcass was sitting on a lightbulb I had grown from the ground in the center of mine room like a panopticon. “The sacramental seal, sir, is not in the dwelling of the onanist.” The cicada whistled.
5. “I will not skip mass tomorrow to collect more insects and larvae by the river for the priest should surely meet me in the confessional booth to cleanse me of mine sins.” I responded in a pleading tone.
6. “But, sir, I will have no friends.” The cicada whistled with selfishness.
7. I got up from the bed, mine stomach emptied from mine orgasm, and took the roasted cicada carcass, carefully observing him. “The sacramental seal, sir.” His dark eyes stared back at mine and I ate the carcass. He whistled down my throat: “The sacramental seal, sir!” For he knew no better than to call me sir.
8. The river was flowing hastily, and dead crawdads washed up on the surface, a step up from the spiteful cicada.
9. I collected seven in mine pockets, for I would need one for each day I orgasmed throughout the week.
10. But it came in the night, after the first orgasm, I could only stomach half of the crawdad, for I was too full and had to make mineself orgasm for a second time to eat the rest of the fishy thing– bones and all.
11. In the week that followed, I was so full up of crawdad that I made mine way to mass, where the priest willingly met me in the confessional booth.
12. “I haven’t become an onanist, because I have always had the urges of the onanist! It has overflowed from the marrow of mine bones to the vaginal walls and into the sheets. I have felt this endless hunger before, and it has worsened! I have found inspiration for this great spill from the skin of mine own sex. A fantastical skin, but a skin nonetheless. Father Quincy, do say these confessionals have obtained the sacrament seal! Do pray for me only in silence, for I am full up of orgasmic pleasure and consumed by mine own sex. I could not stand for mine perverted brain to be exposed to the public. Do say anything at all!”
13. And Father Quincy told me, “If you should quiet your voice, my confidentiality is secured. However, young lady, I make no promises that passersby have not heard these cries. Still, the Lord is forgiving and shall cleanse you of your sins should you repent. Find comfort in this.”
14. “I do! I do!”
15. It so happened, in mine classes, that the whistles of the cicada remained lodged in mine stomach acid, slowly shrinking. No one heard it but I, and so mine secret was still kept in the sacramental seal of mine own skin.
16. But in the eve, when I slowly masturbated, I started to roast, instead, the rats that I found in the sewers around campus.
17. Three orgasms in, I had enough room in mine stomach for their bodies, their bones, their fur, their eyeballs, and their long tails, which I sucked into mine mouth like strings of spaghetti.
18. I skipped mass once again, and instead went to the river, where I snacked on bugs. I no longer collected mine organisms to feast upon but found mineself engaged in conversation with one Dolores.
19. She told me her mother was an artist, and her father was a lawyer. The family had little time to pay attention to young Dolores or to clean the swimming pool out back. She soon found the pool engulfed in vibrant grass, which grew tall and lanky.
20. When she was nineteen, she took the grass and ate of it, for she was sure this was the way for her to grow tall, and to tower over her mother and father.
21. One day, her father came home from the law office to find his daughter had grown even taller than him.
22. He shrieked to his wife: “She is a giant, a monstrous giant! She must be removed at once!”
23. Dolores was sent off to town, where the parents found a small vacant room for her to occupy.
24. I asked her: “Do you miss your family?”
25. “It’s hard to miss the people who pushed me to become a monster. Do you miss yours?” She said.
26. Mine first confession to her: “I crawled from the soil by the river when I was eighteen and have lived among the university students ever since. I cannot recall a parent nor a home nor a period of time in which I was raised. I was born fully developed from the roots of the ground where I once ate the bugs of the lower earth. Now I eat the dwellers of the river and the sewers for sustenance.”
27. She took the skin from mine lips and feasted on it.
28. “I too like to eat the dwellers of the river.” She told me.
29. On the walk home, she came to mine dormitory instead of splitting our separate ways in the alley.
30. “It’s not very efficient is it?” She asked me, pointing to the lightbulb.
31. “That’s not for me to control.” I told her. “It’s only natural that these things take time to rest before I consume them. They forget this rule of eating in the year 190.”
32. “I must not be any better.”
33. “Dolores, you are finer than all.” I assured her.
34. She took her tongue and licked along the side of mine cheek, where residue from the bugs I snacked on still resided.
35. “They still taste fresh, that means you have good luck.” She told me as she licked around mine collarbone and laid me down.
36. “We can rest here.” She said as she stripped down to her underwear and I did the same.
37. Cotton rested against cotton and her breasts pressed into mine, where pain grew beneath the sacks of fat.
38. “You must get off, for I feel too much.” I told her.
39. “You must make me, for I love you too much.” She told me. Thus lasted the span of three orgasms, for the pleasurable weight of her and the sugary leap of the word ‘love’—each sound: “luh-ve” — overwhelmed mine nerves and rushed a gallon of warm blood to mine pelvis and below.
40. I took the side of her face and bit into her ear, when she giggled and told me to “keep going.”
41. Mine teeth moved faster than mine brain, as I chewed up the rest of her ear and made mine way to the skin of her lips.
42. And I should have hers as she had mine. And I should have her nose and her long hair and her collarbone as well as her voice box, so she shan’t protest.
43. She let out a low hum beneath the slobber of mine teeth, a moan I found pleasurable as did she.
44. With her lipless mouth she smiled at me. Blood pooled in her smile and dripped to mine forehead.
45. I regained the strength to push her off me, to lay her now silent body over the lightbulb, where the rat squealed over the small heat.
46. The cicada whisper in my stomach -the sacramental seal, sir- echoed a last breath as it flickered out.
47. I deduced it should take until the end of the week to roast mine Dolores. It was too long; she is too tall. I wished for her to get out now for I had orgasmed thrice and was emptied and hungry and the rat was not evenly cooked for the weight of her body had ruined it!
48. There was not a choice for me but to return to the dirt, where I am hidden and uselessly picking at the bugs.
49. I buried mineself on this Sunday evening, by the river outside the church where I vomited the remains of Dolores. Father Quincy was holding his last confessionals of the day– other homosexuals and criminals and more mortal sinners cried their wages.
50. I masturbated, deep underground, with a crack of light, where I could stare to the sky and find the outline of mine beloved Dolores staring back at me.