Creative Non-fiction

Physiologically, she was talking, not casually because she did that tripple giggle thing, about the vibrator she got herself for Christmas. While he nodded a rote understanding he studied the notch where her clavicles almost met annd he studied the ebb and flow of her breath from her and she swallowed. By what exact analogy, this young pavlovian imagined, were her salivatory glands aroused? In this pause his gaze strolled up her neck ambled over lips and tripped, of course- falling into eye after eye after all; to hold that burning stare was suddenly the hardest thing he had ever had to do since, he couldn't recall having ever existed outside this pressureous moment. She, curious, watched as his entire life flashed so quick, but only the primal part of her brain could recognize that cataclysm which preceeds every next generation; and it manically began a tingling journey down her spine to spread this news ¡Rend those holy and unholy shoulderly philosophies asunder, she unspoken begged and to hear- posterity leaned him closer.