Last night, a little boy wandered around the plant nursery, crying because he lost his mother. I picked him up and put him on the counter near my register, but he kept crying, so I went out and found a flower in pot. I placed it in his hands, told him to hug it tight because it was a magic flower, and if he concentrated on it enough, his mother would know where he was and come find him. I didn't know if what I said was true and felt guilty. The boy closed his eyes and squeezed the pot to his chest.

Five minutes later, an enormous woman, massive, probably ten feet tall and at least a ton in weight with billowing sheets of fat fluttering along her body, came and found her boy. She said thank-you to us, and then opened one of the creases between her fat and dropped the boy in. He completely disappeared.

I felt him sucked to the very center of her and wrapped around with muscle and viscera. I knew he was happy his mother was there to recompose him and the blue flower with her flesh.