This is a fictional story of two gentlemen who have no idea of space and time and probably never will.
They lost track of space and time. Nothing was real. They arrived at 11 p.m.
“It’s 11:19, but it feels like we’ve been here for two hours,” said the tall one sitting on the left who resembled a extra-long toothpick and had hair like velcro.
“Fuck. You’re right. Losing track of time can sometimes mean alien abduction,” said the short one sitting on the right who looked like a teapot and was bald.
No Hands 