Syd got up.
She walked around.
She had to run to catch her prey and escape her predators.
She bore Baby Joe.
Syd could not carry Baby Joe while she worked.
She put the baby down on the ground.
Baby Joe felt abandoned and was not happy lying there all alone.
Syd sang to Baby Joe.
They sang to one another.
They kept each other company during those long days of work.
Then Baby Joe stood up.
Joe liked to run around.
The songs of Syd and Joe turned into conversations.
They talked about now and later and before.
Syd kept talking more and more and more and more.
She filled up space.
She filled up time.
Syd’s voice took up all the air.
Joe didn’t want to hear Syd talk like that all the time.
Joe wanted to hear herself too.
Joe’s ears got tired.
There were not rests.
Syd had lost the on and off switch way down inside of her.
Joe took it upon herself to find that switch and fix it.
She put the first two fingers of her right hand into Syd’s mouth.
Pushed past Syd’s tongue down to her vocal chords.
She felt Syd vibrate.
Joe dug for something deeper in Syd.
That thing beyond Syd’s voice.
That Joe had felt when conversations were young.
Joe slowly pulled Syd’s vocal chords apart.
She stretched them so far that they snapped and fell to pieces.
Joe reached her fingers further down into Syd’s throat.
She pushed and shoved her hand at Syd’s guts.
Then Joe heard that Syd was silent.
No conversation.
No Hmmmmm.
Joe drew her fingers out of Syd.
She wiped the bloody guts of her hand.
Joe sang.