TheyThemAsInGodIsGenderNeutral
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It was one in the morning, and the streetlights were buzzing faintly, shining on unmoving air, casting shadows on the sidewalks and warm yellow brightness into the wall of buildings along the avenue. Chilly wind agitated the branches of a tree. A cat jumped from a shining car. Everything was quiet, except for the shuffling of papers and long-suffering sighs on the third floor of the SSR.
The lights were off, sharpening the bright squares over what would be an impeccable office if it weren’t for the one desk submerged by sheets of paper haphazardly laying around, mugshots of a beautiful black-haired woman, pencils over half-written notes and an SSR printed, sad, cooling coffee mug.
“Oh, Dottie, for fuck’s sake!”
Peggy slammed her hand on the desk. A pencil tinkled, and some sheets lazily fell on the tiled floor. -
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She wondered if it was possible to open Peggy’s ribcage, right here, and enter her body with a knife, snuggle against her beating heart and rest there until the end of her days. Oh, to live inside of her… to be able to plunge her nails into Peggy’s beating heart. To hurt her, not too much, but just enough for Peggy to remember Dottie was there. She could even make room for her in it. Dig a little nook between two ventricles, and curl up in a bed of blood…