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"October 1995 - A blue and gold sunny morning gets me up early for a Sunday, and then I remember to set the clock back. An hour's gift. I decide, in the absence of a sexual partner, to inaugurate the new typewriter. "In my morning dreams a long, fair woman of surpassing beauty kisses me with real desire. Somewhat surprised, I kiss her in return; then I'm kissing and caressing the knotted muscles of her naked back, and then, turning her around, her breasts, her nipples; and every bit of her is beautiful. Complications ensue, however, when it is revealed that she wishes me to perform an errand of great importance to her career which will involve me in difficulties and inconvenience. Upon developing a distinct sense that her beauty promotes unnecessary fuss, I begin to feel irritable and tired. "Having no present need to compromise, I have begun making mental lists of what I will do with and what I will require from my next lover. Above all, she must kiss well. The seams on this latest wreck started to go at the first contact of my lips with hers. Her lips felt hard, like industrial rubber." |