whispers bubble up from nothingness

“Straight pride parade? Like, what?!?” Sandy screeched. Illy looked up from her phone and Sheedy woke from her nap and they both grimaced at the braying Bronxite bartender.

“Only LGBTIQCAPGNGFNBA people are allowed to feel any pride!” Sandy continued.

Sheedy grunted and raised an eyebrow to Illy. She leaned over to Sheedy and whispered in Arabic, “The pervert alphabet.”

Sheedy wrinkled her face in disgust and replied, “The yahud know no decency,” her hand slipping into a ward against evil.

“Ours is the glorious struggle!” Sandy read off the card she kept in her pocket. “History is ours!”

“You said you would tweet about the abuses of the yahud today,” Sheedy reminded Sandy.

“But what about the Green New Deal?” Sandy asked.

“The yahud are behind global warming,” Illy said, not looking up from her phone. Sheedy and Illy had taught the buxom dimwit that “yahud” was Arabic for “Isreali.”

Sandy nodded, and began putting on another layer of matte lipstick and used her phone to check her hair and take a number of selfies.

 

 

scattered and sparse like the dust between the stars

“We should order lunch,” Sheedy said. “Where is the intern?”

Illy’s phone pinged repeatedly, like a cheerful Geiger counter. She looked at it for a moment and giggled.

“What?” Sheedy demanded. “What has happened?”

“He has sent me another,” she said and smiled.

“How many pictures of his kafir penis do you need?” Sheedy asked.

“Dick pics?” Sandy asked excitedly. “I love dick pics! Lemme see, lemme see.”

Illy handed her the phone and Sandy studied the pale penis of Illy’s affair, the half-hard member looking startled under the camera’s flash. She put her hand over her mouth and giggled as well, and then made a soft gagging sound. She turned the phone around to Sheedy.

“It looks fairly clean,” Sheedy said dismissively. She took the phone from Sandy and gave it back to Illy.

“How should I respond this time?” Illy asked, scratching under her turban.

“Send him your bawwabat alshaytan, if he isn’t already bored of it,” Sheedy grumbled.

the nucleus of chaos opened an eye
and then another
and then another

“I love getting dick pics!’ Sandy said.

“Have you written the tweet yet?” Sheedy asked.

“What tweet?”

“About the yahud, the filthy yahud!”

“OMG, I’ve got to pee so bad!” Sandy replied and darted from the room.

After a moment, Sheedy asked, “Why do you do it?”

“Do what?” Illy asked coldly.

“Show me pictures of his penis. You only do it to hurt me.”

“You know what is between us is not all that I have.”

Sheedy reached out and cupped Illy’s left breast.

“Not here,” she told Sheedy, brushing her hand away. “Never here.”

“She will be half-an-hour on her make-up at least, the vain whore.”

“Lock the door,” Illy told her. Sheedy farted when she lifted herself off the couch and went to the office door. Sheedy let herself fall back on the office couch and rolled over onto Illy with a scowl.

“I want you to be mine, I want to solely possess your dark peach,” Sheedy whispered.

“You can have me now,” Illy replied in a flat tone.

“Forever. I want you forever.” Sheedy’s middle finger found Illy’s labial cleft under her suit skirt and rubbed along it trying to look into Illy’s eyes. She found nothing.

“No, don’t,” Illy said as Sheedy tore her pantyhose.

“I did. I will. I must,” Sheedy panted. She pushed aside Illy’s underwear and plunged a finger into her and then another.

“Do you like that?” Sheedy asked, her lips close enough to Illy’s to feel her lover’s breath tickle the hairs of her mustache.

Illy grunted and turned her head and closed her eyes as Sheedy rammed her fingers into her over and over again, her body moving bonelessly with each thrust.

a thousand eyes filled with madness closed

“I don’t feel anything,” Illy whispered.