the first day of my brand new life

Annabelle taught the children of comfort at Zos Kia Kinderkultus, and in the quieter moments of our naptime trysts I slipped a silken screen down the throat of each of of her students with fentanyl clouds pouring out of my sleeves every Friday as I collected the treasures they swallowed and I harvested while Annabelle went over her lesson plans and straightened her dress, and for the edification of the unenlightened I present a tally of the toddler's gastric treasures: the head of a Masonic lapel pin covered in the microcalligraphic footprints of single-cell angels, two marbles (one steelie, one aggie), a cat's cradled tapeworm, the larger half of a pixie's clavicle, multiple shrunken mantis heads as the proof of insect cults and an astonishing number of impregnated embryos nested like russian dolls all the way down. I suspect subconscious whispers in the sleepy heads of drowsing students may lead them to swallow things of greater value in both the greater and lesser markets, so that Annabelle and I have taken to tangos across the floor-mats and bowed to call down for rings and pearls and keys but the experiment is still ongoing, and so I will continue reports after recess.