Except this snake was not smoothly bending, but stiffly, harshly jointed, and each of its billion joints was a blur of fractal feynman diagrams wrappe... in hypnotically coiled pseudo-infinite chains of reducing algorithms. I chased the snake, like the hounds to the fox, and it danced madly in front of me, seductive, insane and as much mine as my name. I stopped my chase, and let the world that was no world wrap around me, and the snake kept on slithering away until it ran into me on the other. She couldn't stand to be alone, so she went back into the restroom. She sat down on the couch and unfastened her French braid. Nervously, she combed her hair out and re-braided it. She tried to ignore how her nipples rose and fell with the combing of her hair. They were like manometers; telegraphing every move she made.The wood floors were fifty years old. They may have been old, but they always looked brand new in the sense that they always looked clean and recently finished with tongue oil.. More

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