After the show, we walked around harvard square for a while, but apparently everything closes at around 10, or at least everything available to an 18-year-old. It was pouring and freezing, yet still somehow the streets seemed beautiful. It actually snowed earlier today, which confuses me because I think it's still November.
We got on the bus back to brandeis from harvard square, and a drunk harvard student got on with us and started calling one of the female members of my clan an asshole. Normally I would be like "yo, bitch, back up," and then I'd follow it with a quick left jab to the jaw, but something else was holding my attention. The bus driver's approximately ten-year-old son was sitting next to me and had fallen asleep on my shoulder, and suddenly images of uteri and mammary glands flooded by brain, and all I could think of was how glorious it would be to expose my teat right there and force the young boy to suck. Upon leaving, I contemplated taking him with me, sneaking him past his father under the cover of my shirt, but my instincts told me his life would be better if he remained on the bus, in the care of someone who'd remember to feed him, rather than force him into slavery.
The offensive harvard guy got off on our campus, and began vomiting and peeing on one of our buildings, clearly as an act of war. I began staring at him, waiting for him to zip up and look back. He saw me, I smiled, he smiled. I looked left, he looked right, and then I beheaded him with a single strike. I lifted his now limp body up above me, above the flame created by the intensity of my chi, and bathed myself in the blood that poured from his severed veins. The other brandeis students looked at me, at once thankful for and horrified by a power they could not comprehend. I lowered his charred flesh, recalling what it once was, and ate the tortured remains.