Her. He feels her, inside the many. Which of the bodies are hers and which are her own body—divided—this is harder to discern. The half dead br...ak apart and halves of the one come together in mutilated form.A voice beckons from where hung the spider:...Come to me…That voice...was it her? Was that really... her? No echo follows her voice. The power of that voice swallows itself.Tristan looks back. At the entrance a web weaving itself anew...Tristan must laugh. Ha! He is stamping his. His hands were all over her back and shoulders, sensuously massaging her, loosening up her inhibitions, while she, for her part, couldn’t take her hands off his muscular black shoulders. He kept making her laugh, and she would nestle her pretty face into his large chest, her eyes closed as they held each other tight. Although I couldn’t see all that clearly, since the dance floor was so crowded, I’m sure I saw their lips touch each other a few times, gently, softly, cheatingly. This guy was. More

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