Wontoon's belly is too soft and steep to ascend directly, so I climb a tree and creep along a branch. By the time I am over Wontoon, the branch is bending so far that I am only a little way above his vast quivering pudge. It calls to me, the living quicksand that is his body. I hang from one hand, reaching my bare feet downwards. My toes touch his pudge and it closes round them, sucking them in. There is no breaking free from that grip. I let myself hang for a little while, held between Wontoon's suction and the branch's upwards pull, savoring my imminent fate. Then I let go, surrender myself. The branch springs up and out of reach, and I begin my slow slide down into Wontoon.

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