The Worm loves us. It will always love us, and thus it always has. It winds around the hot heart of our bodies. It winds around every infinitesimal loop of genetic information. It provokes a shuddering series of cataclysms in our brains, but when our body grows cold, that cataclysm will warm us. We understand so much more. We will always be what we were going to be, wound tight in the love of the Worm.

He should have gotten his brain worms from the gas station salad like fry