The thing about slugs is that they really are nothing. They are so aggressively nothing, so awfully amorphous, it is as though they were afterthoughts, emerged from greasy puddles to slink along the undersides of leaves. And yet, when they mate they are beautiful. They curl around each other like rope, hang upside down from a strand of their own fluid, they copulate in an instant and then drop to the ground, and they stay where they fall. Read story here.
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