Two hours after departure from Huston, we land in Florida. So much time has passed that the areas of the liver webbed by the proboscis’s tentacles are starting to lose color, turning it from shiny blood red to a dull, grayish brown. As noon rolls around, I start feeling a little weak, despite having a large breakfast. God, who even am I right now? After my second cocktail, the buzz that comes on makes me feel woozy and more euphoric than I’ve been feeling all day, like I mixed alcohol with medication. During my research into slime producing creatures, I come across the hagfish, which produces a similar, voluminous goo that seems much thicker than what my womb worm excretes. “Maybe that’s why I keep getting so fucking horny,” I moan quietly to myself as I climb out of bed, “because the worm is making me aroused so I can have actual sex, not just masturbate…” Sable jumps out of bed then trots behind me on the way to the bedroom door, shoving his nose against my ass before I steer his head away.
