One day large blue veins started

                popping out of her body every-

                where.  Her veins snaked and wormed

                their way out of her nostrils, her

                ears, even the corners of her eyes--

                not to mention those most private of

                parts, the anus and genetalia.

                All these bright neon blue

                veins were dangling climbing clawing

                around her flesh, hanging there in

                the air like goddamn pythons.  Some

                of the veins were longer and larger

                than the others.  These seemed bolder

                and friskier.  Soon she began giving

                the more extroverted of these little

                blood-carriers names.  There was Bertha,

                the jugular that protruded from her left

                nostril.  And Margaret, her very favor-

                ite, a perky little vein indeed which

                traveled all the way from the aorta

                down down and out via a hole it made in

                her belly button.

                She didn't like the smaller of

                the veins too much.  She regarded their

                extrusion from her body as a pest...they

                were always squirming, wiggling, swarming

                about her bloated flesh in gangs, in

                groups like a nest of angry vermicelli.

                But, not only did she not mind how the other,

                larger veins conducted themselves--she actual-

                ly kind of valued their companionship.  In

                this way, the most prominent and assertive

                of her veins became her own special pets.

                She became a snake charmer.  Only the snakes

                she charmed were in actuality the overgrown

                veins which stuck out from her

                flesh.

                She took to taking her favorite

                veins out for periodic "walks" in which the

                things swirled and flopped and frolicked

                about like a pack of rabid eels, all the

                while tethered, like little doggies on

                leashes, back to her central nervous system,

                back into the ugly insides of the living corpse

                she had become.

                Everything was going so well, between

                her and her veins, that she thought she had

                finally found a truly loving relationship, the

                kind of love which had long since eluded her

                in her dealings with fellow humans.

True, there

were certain conversational drawbacks:  the

veins couldn't speak, after all.  Sex was still

a significant part of this love affair, though--

and what fine, erotic, exotic sex it was!!--

because either Margaret or Bertha or both usually

visited her each night.

        In these instances her pet veins would

get all aroused and swell up and expand to their

fullest lengths, maybe twice their normal size,

and then begin penetrating, thrusting over and

over again into her most sensitive

orifices.

        It is not known for certain what then

happened to this beautiful, mutually caring

relationship.   Certain acts of infidelity may

have taken place, between her and various

internal organs; and these acts may have sent

the veins into a jealous rage.  Whatever the

case, something quite serious transpired

between the girl and her veins.  Something serious

enough to turn everything which had once been

so sweet very sour indeed.

        Soon there was no longer any lovemaking

between her and her veins, only a brutal simmering

feud.  A sense of discontent, treason and mutiny

welled up and ran through all those vessels which

carried blood, plasma and oxygen throughout

her body.

        For a number of days prior to the final

incident, perhaps for a week beforehand, she began

to feel genuinely uneasy at night as she lay in

her bed trying to sleep.  She felt as if she could

sense that a sizeable portion of her own body might

at any minute rise up in revolt against her,

taking advantage of her as she slept.

        Then, one Sunday morning, the paperboy found

her.  Upon discovering the front door slightly ajar,

and needing to collect on the woman's overdue bill,

he entered the apartment and was the very first to

see her there, sprawled out dead upon her bed, dead

and strangled by a complex, rope-like network of

her own veins, arteries and capillaries, all of

which extended out from every available orifice

and, together as if by plan, entwined together to

form

an organic blue-purple
noose around her neck.