Two people with rafflesia flowers for heads, having sought after each other for lifetimes, came together and bloomed. The largest flowers in the world, the rafflesia only opens after four years. And they waltz together in some public school gymnasium; you know, where a life-long connection should have happened, once. As adults now, the two of them cover the floor with legs like protractors. Then they get a whiff of it. The aroma of their flowers, pockmarked orange pedals, measuring a meter in width, fills the gymnasium; a smell that lies flat across the painted floors. The stench of death. The scavengers’ beacon.
The largest flower in the world smells like an exaggeration, a thousand deaths. And for a moment the dancers pull each other closer despite of it; for a moment, they are actually bound together despite of it - until it becomes overwhelming. They realize their deaths. The floor seems to drop out from beneath them and they are nobodies and nowhere and there is nothing betw