Marlon is.

Marlon is. Yeah. Sure, his behaviour had been questionable in the past but now… was he different?

When you lose a tooth and you push your tongue into the gap do you feel where a tooth isn’t? Or do you feel nothing? The void? Was there a difference?

Had there been a change?

That last tango which had brought this on. He thought of that. How soft…. and tassels. Marlon closed his eyes. He felt guilt. Shame even. Something had to fill the void and perhaps it was guilt. He felt guilt now because he is.

Yes, he is. But why did he feel shame? No means no, but there had been no no. Silence. Didn’t that mean anything? Is the opposite of no not simply silence?

No. No excuses. Marlon had known at the time he was wrong but he couldn’t control it.

What would he say? Please forgive me? And who exactly was he apologizing to? Claudette? Who had screamed no and then slapped him? Or the cushion? The cushion he’d been going mental on with his little tiny dog dick?

He would apologize.

Marlon could now think of the cushion without getting a little teeny weeny doggie stiffy. That was new. And, he realized, the vibrations from the Metro hadn’t given him a stiffy either. Because he had changed. What could he feel from where his nuts had been the previous day? Before the vet lopped them off? Pain from the stitches. Nothing more. Nothing. Claudette, who had wrapped him in a butcher’s apron for some reason, hugged him carefully and once more asked the question. This time Marlon answered with a conviction lacking previously.

Marlon is.

Marlon’s a good boy.