I took my razor, cut a short slice on my forearm, dipped my finger in the running warm blood and wrote, on the bathroom wall, a 口, the character for...mouth, hoping the severed arm would stick itself in there instead...When I got to the cafeteria, Marco was dressed in a long, flowing red robe with gold trim, wearing several sets of bright green bead necklaces and had a crown of thorns and chicken feathers on his head. He was drinking a cup of chicken blood mixed with herbs.“Omiero,” he said,. Then, he suddenly slid his hands behind my back and made me sit on his lap. As I sat on one leg, he played his fingers on my hair making casual conversation about how his day had been, and asked me about mine. As we spoke, the closeness made us feel warm and comfortable. He clasped his palms onto mine and admired my nails and my soft skin, before kissing my hands. Slowly he slid me in between his legs and I could feel his terse horny feeling as he gently started kissing my hand and advanced. More

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