“You’re an idiot.” Sometimes she wakes up with FUCK YOU emblazoned across her forehead. I’m not sure why. Perhaps in my sleep I set her car on fire. Accusations of stupidity (etc.) fly from her mouth with ease. Such was the case yesterday. We haven’t spoken sense.

—

This morning I ate a young man’s brain. He came to my office, in the basement of X University where I am a professor of Y. “Professor,” he inquired through the wooden door, “are you in?” I beckoned him inside. An  extremely intelligent young man who is probably also wealthy (X University caters to smart and wealthy students and, as any reasonably smart person will tell you, the two traits are often mutually exclusive), he was fidgety like an old man but dressed like a young hip person.

“Could I ask you about our next assignment?” The young man spoke in a quivering voice. I nodded. He sat down. Then I struck him hard across the face. He went limp almost instantly and I set to eating his brain.

What are you doing, I asked myself in a moment of hesitation.

Becoming smart, I replied, as I took another bite of his brain.