Fiction: Chicken Alfredo

By Alex Antiuk

Trash bags lined the towel rack, but I knew we didn’t need them. I was staring at Case with a smile, as we took turns letting the undercooked chicken alfredo splash onto our feet. I watched the white, creamy chunks exit with velocity from her delicate mouth. They made a pile over the floor, and I placed my feet into it. I moved with a hop in my step, and began to squish my heels like you see the cranberry farmers do in their TV commercials. And when Case said, “Your turn!” I rammed my own fingers down my throat to hurry the process.

My index finger landed all the way at the bottom of my tongue, and without wasting another second I launched the once green, and now yellow green beans all over the floor.

“Should we make angels in it?” I asked, after collecting myself and wiping my mouth. Case had a look of pure, honest joy on her face after I suggested we should lay down and bask in our dinner.

Case delicately drifted, and her butt made a funny sound when it landed. I joined her, moving carefully not to slip on the giant puddle. I felt my own butt become wet and I reached down and scooped up a small pile. I could see bits of chicken and pasta, and I flung it straight at Case. It smacked against her happy but lifeless, dehydrated pale cheeks.

Laughter echoed all around our tiny bathroom, and Case quickly returned the favor. She splashed me straight on the nose. I let it drip down onto my gargantuan smile, and I began to taste our dinner for the second time tonight. It had a peculiar aftertaste, but I knew the more I ate, the more I’d let go once again. And I didn’t want to stop.

We were entangled in love and delirium, and there was nowhere else I wanted to be in this world. And when Case scooped up another batch and threw it at me, I hoped we could go back and forth for eternity. Feeding and regurgitating, with smiles on our faces and love echoing alongside the sound of violent release.

Alex Antiuk can be found on Twitter @letsbamboobaby. His debut short story collection, Dumb Music was published by Soyos Books.