081413 #worm Bebrorogu and Faup, Tattol and Bylokuun. As animals before a forest fire they fly into another, greater fire. Dadlun, Snyw, Uknekypy, Kunidima. Fly, my little varmints, fly. The amaranth is swishing. Someone's coming. It's almost time. The trash truck rumbles on through invisible space. The putrescence of Him and Me's immediate environment increases as a function of their increasing fatigue. So it is a relief when the great metal beast finally lumbers to a halt, although a fresh layer of trash slops over Him and Me in the sudden deceleration. Me whips sour-wine-smelling paper pulp off his eyebrow, and struggles to a crouching position. Him also rises as best he is able. The truck starts to beep. What now? They look at each other.