When we met, we were lovers. Knew everything from soul to favourite sandwich, one identity for two bodies clocked in tandem, geared by friction and teeth.
We sped up as we loved. We knew more.
Torque and torture. We had fun winding each other up.
The next twist tighter, no room, ratcheted cycle redundant. You went limp, came back, and left again. We didn’t wait. Sprang forward, fell back, and met again and again. Swung the weight of our knowledge like a wrecking ball.
We live without walls. The pendulum of desire pounds a stranger. Our calibrated face marks time.
Author bio: Joanna Koch writes literary horror and surrealist trash. Author of the novella “The Couvade,” their short fiction has been published in journals and anthologies such as “Synth,” “Honey & Sulphur,” and “In Darkness Delight: Masters of Midnight.” Consume their monstrous musings at horrorsong.blog.
Torsion is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.