A Foreboding Prelude to the Amplitude of Pain

There was a shadow amoeba in my hospital room the size of an adult hand, and I watched it make its rounds as it crawled up and down the wall for 17 minutes straight. Blinking sparingly, I followed its foreboding gestures so that I wouldn't miss its intentions.

I was transfixed with its disciplined oscillations and wavering habits. It would flicker assertively at times, grow faint, disappear for split seconds, then abruptly emerge as its blacker denser shadow reincarnate–all while adhering to its committed three foot linear path on the wall facing me.

It was unsettling, yet poetic in its deliberateness. I could've watched it perform its routine all night, but my nurse interrupted my curious voyeurism so that she could replace my chemo bag, marking the commencement of the new day at 1:46 am.

Shadow friend gone, my attention was redirected toward the fresh toxicity inserted into my central line, serving as a sadistic reminder of the perdition that awaited my diminishing body. As I laid there, tormenting for any kind of sleep spurt, I could hear the sinister laughter of the abdominal and bone pains, nausea, and vomiting in the prelude of the approaching day.

Little Man

She owned a little man.

Not a little person little man, (although, he was little in physical stature) but one of little status and worth.

Her emasculating affections didn't seem to deprive him of his dignity though–he actually quite cherished her attention, and she cherished her little SIMP in return.

His little penile endowment was relished by her all-consuming cunt, and she endowed him with condomless sex, a justification of her intrauterine devices.

They were an odd couple, to say the least. However, they knew their roles in the pecking order, and perhaps this awareness is what made their romance most gratifying.

Baby Bloodmeal

It doesn't matter! It simply, doesn't, FUCKING, matter!! 

Be like Abraham and BELIEVE. Your faith will be preserved and lauded throughout posterity. 

For she is The Lamia Leeanius, Matriarch of the Gorgon Legion, of the Second Circle. And her technique is masterful across the millennia, immaculate even. 

Look, you can breed another child. Do not attach yourself to that which, by design of The Impeccable One, is temporal and fleeting. The laws He has mandated are immutable and unyielding, and leave no room for such vulgar speculation.  

Besides, the bloodmeal will be used to propagate the mission at hand. It has been prophesied.

All HAIL, The DragnMastr!!