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He knew deep inside that he would never again experience the joys of her body. "Is there anything I can do?"
Analís quickly gathered her clothing and gave her son an order. "Stay away from me!" How could she have fallen for the adversary's deception in such a monumental fashion? She knew better yet, she still yielded to the evil nature of her humanity. How could she have been so careless and so eager to engage in this perversion? Her selfishness caused her to risk the well-being of her child's soul. "Forget this day ever happened."
"Didn't you like how I made you feel?" Carlos knelt on all fours and looked up at her as if he were a little helpless puppy.
She answered honestly, as she hastily dressed, "You're making me feel sick to my stomach."
Carlos sat up and covered his face. "I've always loved you." Analís's hair was black save for the long yellow tips and she didn't love him the way he loved her. He weakly blubbered, "You've made me happy from the day I was born," when he realized that his first and only true love had no desire for his perfect body, spirit or love.
The music of his mother's voice turned to a hollow drone. "I know." Her bliss completely left her like the ghost of a memory.
"Analís, I'm starving for you." "I have nothing more to say to you." Analís ran as fast as she could. She left her bicycle and her backpack behind.
Carlos screamed from the bottom of his bowels, even though he felt too weak to stand. "Analís...!" The words rang through his body and out of his mouth like church bells. "Analís...!" It was to no avail. The woman who partook of his flesh abandoned him. "I love you!" He felt as if a knife had stabbed his heart, so his blood could drain into a chalice that her lips would never touch. "Why don't you love me?" The answer never came.
"Don't you care that I love you more than life itself?" His voice became a whimper as she disappeared into the distance. "Of course not," Carlos stood beside himself, "you're numb, just like everyone else."
The dream was over and his prayers had been answered in the most cruel and sadistic manner imaginable. If the god that heard Carlos's prayers was truly so cruel, he would have preferred its non-existence. There was no way a loving, all-knowing and all-powerful entity could be so vicious. Random chance and the instinctive nastiness of humanity seemed to be a more comforting explanation for this mess. This was enlightenment.
The brown and beige serape that Analís knit for him lay on the ground, perfectly folded and ready to wear. Carlos took it into his hands. His eyes became transfixed on it. "Love is dead as hope and God." The brokenhearted man stood up. His nudity strike ended. He had nothing left to prove. The warm breeze blew the serape and Carlos gazed at a memory somewhere in the horizon. His stomach ached. He was famished, but he didn't want to go back home.
