La Petite Mort
The afternoon sun stabbed me in the eyes. I had been thinking about him again. I shut it out, curtains and door lock, and lay down on my bed with "So Happy I Could Die" on loop. I tried Pornhub, but the free-use videos wouldn't load, so I stared at an AI-generated photo of him saved in my gallery and put my little vacuum-cleaner between my thighs. The air-conditioner panted laboriously. Dust swirled in the room. After what felt like an eternity, the shell was clean, and empty. Then thunder, so loud and sudden, that I couldn't tell whether I was shaking because of it. I peeked through the curtain. The sky was as black as Gaga's album cover. Rain jumped from above. Wind ran away screaming. I turned on the bathroom light and found a woman in a white nightgown, staring.
Edited by Fable 5.1