On a day that the televisions were spewing out Reality Shows, I met Cosette at a square. She was wearing an intensely yellow autumn-dress she had bought from an American movie of the 50's and had a promiscuous purple shawl wrapped around her shoulders. I fell in love with her in the first second. All around us, thousands of sheep-men had overwhelmed the Square to watch Mr. President award the Medal of Honour to the Reality Show Winner. Everybody who had noticed Cosette were staring at her tits and ass described by her dress. I was staring at her shoulders, that were so vulgarly covered by her shawl.
Around us, the throng, slobbering, was raving starkly, paying heed to Mr President's praising words, while the faces of the tall buildings that loomed around the square were ornamented with huge Greek flags and gargantuan posters of the Reality Show's winner, all crowned with laurels. Everyone was shouting aloud, others singing the national anthem, others the Show's theme song, others just howling unintelligible screams. A Shepherd then suddenly shot with a Cleaver Cannon and beheaded two Sheep-Men. Everybody but me and her pounced on the mutilated corpses to cannibalise. We were the only ones left standing in that square, not eating our fellow men. That's when she took notice of me. The crowd, writhing and draggin, was devouring raw sheep-man flesh, making sounds of erotic climax, with a breath reeking of Coke, for the indigestion.
I asked her name.
"Cosette", she replied.
While we were kissing, all my senses were trembling as if I was permeated by a strong electrical current. My spine was pulsing and my knees could barely keep me standing. How much could that delirium of the senses have lasted? Ten minutes, half a day, or a whole year?
It was as if the crowd, absorbed in its macabre feast, could not see us. The one charged upon the other to devour them, but we were passed by as if non-existent. While our kiss lasted, nobody could see us, touch us, hurt us. We we kissing and we were Invincible. Some might well have literally passed through our very bodies, but neither we, nor they could tell the difference.
Gradually the people started to come to from their cannibal-mania, from which not even the Shepherd and some of the sheep who began the feast were spared. Mr President and the Winner escaped through the sewers in a Military Armoured Cockroach.
When the paranoid fix passed completely, people started staring us.
The moment that happened, we opened our eyes, our tongues were paralysed and our lips were parched. Our mouths parted. Our bodies were unglued. Our hands drifted away. We turned our backs on each other and went on our separate ways. Ever since this incident, I don't find life at the City as disgusting as before