Black Hole Hannibal Fists in Elephant

Emily, the Mongolian, sat commiserating with Garaud, the Afro-European by way of France, about how her mother too had punished her with severe beatings as a child. Garaud asked "Is she still alive, your mother?" Yes, she answered. Why? "Well, when you see her now do you spend most of the reunion trying to build up the nerve to exact your revenge? I do. I stand there rigid with anger and my fists are clenched so tightly that light could not escape from them." You have black hole fists she asked. "I suppose." Well, no she answered, i love my mother very much. Her eyes were closed and as she shook her head back and forth, her hair swayed heavily about her face. Her hair was dyed cherry red and her lips were tattoed purple.

The evening chime sounded and all the interned gathered near the exit, day tickets in hand for the finishing clerk. Emily wished she had told Garaud "Life was very tough on our mothers, the depression, the rape camps, the exterminations... I do think they deserve an infinite amount of forgiveness."

All punched out, Garaud did not say goodbye to Emily. He walked quickly to the main design facility gates, through the general walk way tube and onto the blue 01 line train. There were many seats to choose from as most of the city's occupants had stayed home due to the weather warnings. A fog of sticky, itchy clouds clung close to the ground while overhead, the sky rained down bits of black sleet. Garaud read a small book titled 'Elephants of Hannibal' written backwards.