Intercourse

At the post office the woman finally got a good long look at the monster, a stare. She was breathing the same air, not as before, de­prived.

When she had first sighted the monster, this woman had not been sure whether or not to trust her instinct.

Was it a monster?

What it was was a monstrous posture she had seen, and the hair on top of the head was heaped so that it appeared as a bulge of hair, with far too much hair coming down at the side, so as to be an abnormal amount. Otherwise, the form of the monster was spin­dly. It was a small-sized monster.

The eyes were pale turquoise. The facial skin was milky milky white. The nose was a short, finely shaped nose. The mouth was full-lipped, painted coral. The hair was the woman’s favorite color hair—cinnamon color. The voice was girl-like when the woman heard it. The black-inked handwriting on the brown-paper-wrapped package was indecipherable from the distance it was observed from, but it was a curvaceous handwrit­ing. The high-heeled shoes with ankle straps were made of metallic gold leather. The purse was like bronze.

Okay, the emergence of this bombshell has gone on long enough for me. Occasionally I select a man, but my preference is for women who could easily steal away my beloved husband who is not taboo.

Carnality is common in rude society. The incarna­tion is temporary or permanent.