After Lunch Special

Leaning back in his desk, Morris chided himself, eyes half closed as the soporific inveigled his senses and his mind began to drift. He laughed quietly to himself he must have sounded half demented when he was explaining what he had thought he saw to Tom and Sly. Like OMG, the Graces shrank Len and ate him, he chuckled some more.

A single thought, a lone strand of reason twanged inside his head like a discordant guitar string out of tune and deserving attention. Why did Kimber come up to him? He frowned. Why had she bothered to learn his name? He was no one in her world, a spectator in the nose bleed section of her seemingly idyllic life. So why would she approach him the way she did? Didn’t make sense. Ms. Mackenzie sounded far away, words no longer intelligible.

What if, for arguments sake, Susannah actually swallowed Len, taking him down inside that magnificent body of hers and into the pit of her gut.

He closed his eyes, the darkness coaxing him to dream. It was as if he could imagine it, the sensation of feeling the muscular rings of cartilage undulating around him as she swallowed, pulling inexorably into the blackness of her interior. There was a brief moment of weightlessness as he passed through the cardiac sphincter and dropped into her stomach, the muscular ridges within writhing around him. The atmosphere inside was hard to breather, hot and acrid, a humid death chamber.  Blind and unable to see, he needed his other senses to define the nature of his confinement. The sound of her heart, pumping blood throughout her body, and other sounds, wet noises, gastric secretions and the movement of materials through her system. He could feel a sensation in his fingers, his toes, tingling at first. A warmth escalating in intensity and spreading over the entire surface of his naked skin. While he couldn’t see it, he knew her body was beginning to break him down. It was hard to gain any sense of footing in the changing dynamic inside her. Was she moving? The slippery spongy interior of her stomach slimy and coated with mucous. He pounded his fists against a wall imprisoning him. He thought he could hear her laugh, a muffled sound.

Morris jerked himself awake suddenly flopping back against the built in chair of his desk, a shout dying on his lips as the classroom came into focus and twenty seven pairs of eyes gazed upon him in askance of the nature of his outburst.

Several other students laughed out loud, Ms. Mackenzie looked up from her desk and frowned.

Somebody mumbled “stoner”, more snickering.

“Something wrong Morris?” asked the teacher.

He paused a moment, considering. Shaking his head from side to side, “No, sorry,” he replied sheepishly.

“Then perhaps you should return to page thirty four,” she encouraged, a half smile on the side of her face.

He nodded. The remainder of the class he tried to interpret the dream he had, being swallow alive and the horrific end that might follow.

Exiting the room, Ms. Mackenzie held him up, “A moment Morris?”

He looked at the door then the teacher and then smiled. She was probably in her thirties, he wasn’t sure. Medium height, long hair kept back from a very pretty face. The second hottest teacher at the school, he had fantasized about her on more than one occasion. “Sure,” he mumbled, crossing the space from the door to her desk. She pointed to a vacant desk in the front row. He sat.

Getting up, she walked in front of her desk, leaning her butt against the edge and crossing her arms under her perky breasts, “I am concerned for you,” she said, looking down, “You seemed to be somewhere else today.”

He nodded, blonde locks bouncing, “Yeah, just had kind of a rough night last night is all,” he lied.

She pursed her lips, “You are a very bright and intelligent young man, but you are letting your grades slide, I just don’t want to see you stumble and have to repeat,” she said.

“Yeah,” he replied, looking down at his hands.

“I’m sure you don’t want to have to sit through this class again next semester,” she chuckled, leaning to the side to try and make eye contact.

He looked into her eyes, kind of a blend between green and blue, pretty, almost mesmerizing, “I’ll try to be more attentive,” he assured.

She put her hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, “That’s all I wanted to talk to you about,” she smiled, “But you should get along, you don’t want to be late for your next class,” she stated, removing her hand.

He watched her return to sit behind her desk before he got up, “Thank you Ms. Mackenzie,” he said, bobbing his head.

She smiled. “You’re welcome, now off you go,” she encouraged looking to the door.

Shuffling through the door, Morris entered the hallway into the throng of milling students. Deciding to forego visiting his locker, he turned sideways and knifed through the crowd to toward Mr. Tiergarten’s shop class. He didn’t even notice Susannah until he felt her hand on his arm. Startled, he jerked his arm back and dislodged her grasp.

“Did I give you an electric shock?” she asked, smiling up at him.

He shook his head, “No, just startled me is all,” he babbled, thoughts of Len screaming back into the conscious portion of his mind. Was he somewhere inside this beautiful girl, still alive, still aware? He shuddered as she held him with her eyes.

“You were out by the bleachers earlier today right?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.

He brought a hand up and ran his fingers through his hair and frowned, “Yeah, maybe, I don’t really remember,” he said, feeling his pulse accelerate.

She smiled then licked her lower lip, “Did you see me there?” she asked.

He chuckled, “I don’t know, I was, you know, paying homage to Mother Nature by indulging in some of her finest herb,” he said, very much wanting to be away from this girl nearly a foot shorter than himself.

She nodded slowly, smile crossing her lips. “See you around,” she said, winking at him.