“Ben, Ben, Ben.” Ben comes up to me while I’m rubbing my cheeks. Anju, by this point, is already on the other side of the room, with Shakti and Mark. I’m by the fridge. Ben grabs my shoulders.

“Ben, what are you doing?” I say.

“Ben, Ben . . .” He moves his face closer to mine.

“Ben, you’re Ben; I’m Lyd,” I say.

“Ben, I think . . . I think you are just . . .” He shakes his head. “You are so beautiful, Ben, and just so . . .” and then he walks off. He goes up to Anju and tries to kiss her, but she pushes him away, grumpily. “Ben, you’re covered in peanut butter,” she says.

On the floor, I make sure I’m not lying next to Ben. I lie next to Shakti at the end of the row instead. Gradually, the dog makes its way across to me, via everyone’s faces. Ben is in the lead when Pig gets to me. The dog’s strange, alien face looks down into mine.

“Hello,” I say to him. I can feel his warmth. He breathes loudly, like it’s a struggle. His paws on my chest are hot. Then, he lowers his head and starts sniffing me. He sniffs for a long time. And, then, he starts licking, but not the parts of my face I’ve rubbed olive oil into. He starts licking my chin and neck, and my hair; he licks my lips, my nostrils—everywhere, I realize, where blood from the duck must have splashed me; I didn’t wash myself well before coming here. I’d just wiped my mouth with tissue. Pig’s tongue is excessively warm. His small body is excessively close. So close, I can hear the blood circulating around his body; I can feel his pulse through the pads of his paws. Just as I begin to daydream about biting him, about feeling the life leaving his body and entering mine and then experiencing all of his memories—living in a litter, becoming Maria’s pet and being taken on walks, experiencing licking all of our faces tonight—about gnawing on his bones, getting every little drop of blood off them, Maria’s alarm goes off, and everyone cheers. In that same moment, Pig staggers backward away from my face, whimpering.

“It’s okay.” Maria rushes over to Pig and scoops him up. “Everyone’s just celebrating,” she says to him. But, I wonder if, rather than it being the noise of cheering that has spooked him, it is that I have spooked him. Perhaps he sensed me transition from being human to something more animal; perhaps he caught a glimpse of my teeth.