of curves and squares (part two in a series) duncan b. barlow She waited outside the box. Something inside stirred. Through the shade, she could make out a misty shape, a series of boxes. She looked down; her body was not so much a series of circles, but a system of curves. She had once watched a creature with wings draw liquid from a flower – its wings too appeared to be a series of curves. She’d wanted to touch it, but feared being seen. The body shifted in the dark. She focused her eyes. The body shifted again, she tried to focus but the figure moved so quickly she could only register a misty blur. She let her fingers drift past her bulbous stomach; she rubbed her knees and tickled the inside of her right thigh. They stood there, watcher and watched. Thunder crept across the trundelic expanse of night, first at twenty-five kilohertz and soon beyond either of their auditory registers. She felt a movement inside her series of curves. A string of electricity divided the black sky. For the first time, she saw the form -- Statuesque -- as if a liquid should run down the layers. He saw her too. His eyes, two pits gouged in the surface of an otherwise flat face, closed. When he opened them again, the familiar dearth of night, It was perhaps an illusion. He continued pacing. She shifted in the shadows, careful not to disturb the balance of silence that protected her from the possible manifestation of the curious form. She might leave as she did every night and return the following night to watch. However, something kept her there, the promise of seeing even more than she had just seen. Many nights ago, she had fantasized about seeing the form; now she wanted to touch it, feel its sandy texture beneath her webbed hands. Something stirred beside her ear, a quick vibration, almost like a nervous spasm. It had moved beside her. She stood, breathless. He hovered inches above the ground, his cubic form occupying more space by the moment. She spoke, but only fragments of an unfamiliar language manifested. She touched the form, her legs shook and a hole somewhere inside of her dripped. He tried to speak, but a language of breath and clicks fell from him. He touched the system of curves, his body twisted and expanded at a quicker rate. Somewhere in the dark a wind blew and silence returned.