.#.#...##.                                          #.#...#.##
.#.#..#.#.                                          #.#..##..#
.#.#.##.#.                                          #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#.                                          #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#.                                          #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. # % . # % . # % Lying # % . # % . #  % . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. #    %   .   In   My   Room,   #   %   . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. # Arms Flopped Over The Edge Of The Bed. #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. #  % .  Something Poking  My Left  Hand, #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. #     %      .      Something     Slimy, #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. # %  .  Slithering Around  The  Fingers, #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. #   %   .   Up   The   Arm.   #   %    . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. Is  It   Drug-Fueled   Apathy?  #  %   . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. #   %   .   I   Don'T  Move   The   Arm. #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. #    %    .    #    %    .    #   %    . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. Whatever It Is  That'S Tasting Me, # % . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. It    Moves    Further   Up,   #   %   . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. Reaches    The    Armpit.    #    %    . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. I  Turn  My  Head  Toward  It.   #  %  . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. #    %   .    Looks    Like    Seagrass. #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. #   %   .   It'S  Kinda   Cute.  #  %  . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. #    %    .    #    %   .    #    %    . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. # % .  Once It'S  Up My Neck  And On  My #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. Face,    I    Bite    It.    #    %    . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. #  %  .  The Texture  Is Like That  Of A #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. Juicy       #      %       .      Grape, #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. # %  . And The Squish Tastes  Like Sweet #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. #   %   .   #    %    .    Cucumber.   . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. # % . It'S Very Good.  # % . And I # % . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. Suck   More   Of    It   In.   #   %   . #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. #   %    .    Chew    It.    #    %    . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. # % . The Seagrass Doesn'T Seem To Mind. #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. #    %    .    #    %   .    #    %    . #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. %   »  Apathy   Gone,  I  Sit  Up.  %  » #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. % »  The Tendrils  Are Stuck  Under  % » #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. %  » My Shirt, %  » Entering  By The Arm #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. And  Exiting  Through  The Collar.  %  » #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. %  » This Makes  It  Hard For Me To Push #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. More   Of   It   In  My   Mouth.   %   » #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. % » I Make  To Remove The Shirt, But The #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. Seagrass Finally Protests When I  Try To #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. Move     My     Left     Arm.    %     » #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#. %  »  So  -  Eating  It  Is  Ok,   %   » #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#. %  »  % »  Moving  It Is  Not. %  »  % » #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#.                                          #.#.#.#.##
.#.#..#.#.                                          #.#.#.#..#
.#.#.##.#.                                          #.#.#.#.##
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