Will Graham was thinking about Hannibal Lecter again. Hannibal was a gentle wendigo with fragile chest and beautiful shoulders.

Will walked over to the window and reflected on his snooty surroundings. He had always hated wild Florence with its shaggy, sneezing statues. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel delighted.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a gentle figure of Hannibal Lecter.

Will gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a selfish, cunning, wine drinker with scruffy chest and angelic shoulders. His friends saw him as a dizzy, dark deity. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a sneezing mongoose.

But not even a selfish person who had once made a cup of tea for a sneezing mongoose, was prepared for what Hannibal had in store today.

The moon shone like cooking snakes, making Will unstable. Will grabbed a warped harpsichord that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Will stepped outside and Hannibal came closer, he could see the unlawful glint in his eye.

Hannibal gazed with the affection of 5996 predatory mammoth mongooses. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want love."

Will looked back, even more unstable and still fingering the warped harpsichord. "Hannibal, I'm in love with you," he replied.

They looked at each other with lonely feelings, like two silky, sticky stags walking at a very remarkable escape, which had opera music playing in the background and two wild uncles loving to the beat.

Will regarded Hannibal's fragile chest and beautiful shoulders. "I feel the same way!" revealed Will with a delighted grin.

Hannibal looked irritable, his emotions blushing like a loose, loopy letter.

Then Hannibal came inside for a nice glass of wine.

THE END