*Camila + Haruki*
This is the last image I have of Camila: a group of naked college kids formed a circle around her, their skinny, greased-up, amped-up athletic bodies high on TVC and SX-3, sweat and tears dripping from their oval-shaped collarbones and down their sternums and then splatting on their hamstrings. With drug and synthetic enhanced erections, breasts swollen like full papooses, and in a few instances, tummies inflated like bursting cocoons, the students chanted Camila's name like she were a personality cult as she fingered herself and then traced slalom lines up her thighs with her fingertips, beckoning the next sexual partner to join her on the sofa. It’s funny: I thought they were forming a circle around her, but it was actually a fuck line. I also thought a giant asteroid was going to destroy all of us at once either in the first silent flash of searing cosmic light or in the circulating explosions of magma and lava, but the truth was, Cam was already gone and I had never existed.