“I don’t believe in you or me.”

It’s Halloween, and the girl who’s been voted Most Likely To Break My Heart is standing on the rooftop of the candy store. She’s got an automatic rifle in her hands. And the candy store is burning. 

It’s Halloween, and I’m wearing a mask. It’s semi-transparent, so you can still see me through it; my Caucasianly pale skin, and my nervously brown eyes. I’ve got a candy-bag full of freshly harvested sets of teenage genitalia; it’s nothing sexual, from my end, but we caught a pack of them trying to molest a slow-moving herd of cattle, and we felt like some form of retribution was required. 

Yeah, she cut their balls off, and left the boys leading by side of the road. The cattle stampeded, and took out a local shopping mall. It’ll all be on the news tomorrow. 

Half the world’s consumed by a storm as big as the moon, and here we stand, drenched in rain and laughing, while the candy-store burns. 

The air is alive with the smell of napalm and jujubes. Artificial flavours and colours turning to beautiful plumes of smoke, and heaps of soggy ash. The air is caramelized, and crisp. It reminds me of wanting to live forever in a single moment. Let’s just be this, and right here, for the rest of all eternity. 

But that girl, man, she doesn’t believe in anything. She’s drunk on drugs and full of strange spites. 

She’s gonna burn down this world, and put up a taco-stand in its place.

I bought her at candy store; I liked her wrapped, but I loved the faked shades of her sweetness, her sweetness beneath her wrapper. She was every colour of the rainbow, fused and melted together.

I bought her with the change in my pocket, and I took her home to enjoy her.

I peeled her naked, once we were alone. I wanted to get her in mouth as soon as I had her in my hands; I wanted to devour her right there on the street, but I knew she’d be too messy for public consumption.

But once we were alone, I stripped her down, and revealed her form to me, all angular curves and artificial colourings and well, basically, exactly what I wanted.

She was so sweet she made my teeth ache. Too much of her and I’d be on the floor, vomiting up my soul and breakfast. Too little of her, and I’d be angry for days. Months.

She was hard enough to crack a tooth, soft enough to get all sticky on my tongue, like wax melting against my body. Sugary wax, flowing over me, coating me.

I ate her like a snack, yeah. And now I can’t get the taste of her off my lips.