That night Harry witnessed the fornication of words on paper. Squiggly little letters animated themselves, assumed erotic positions and copulated frantically. Words ending in vowels were pursued and ravaged by words containing consonants. Greedy and lecherous, the Esses ravished each other at the end of every line, in every corner, at every comma, seldom pausing for a breath. And in the process, he learned that multiple orgasms were not just a seminal synapse gone awry. But for a man who loved women and subliminal labor, orgasm was forked like a bolt of lightning, and could not only split the trunk of a tree, but also send riveting rivulets of passionate kinetic energy deep into every crevice and corrugation of the mind.
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