Re: [Anon/Anon]
I do. Or I could be, and sometimes, I am. [...]
Why must you be brave?
[...] I once attended a gathering at a gentleman's house when I was younger, and he had girls on display. Standing on pedestals, stripped bare. Girls pale as milk with small breasts and no arms, dark Africans, an Irish girl who had lost her leg to a thresher. They were the evening's amusement, there to foster discussion. There were musicians too, I think. Everyone looked at them, and touched their missing parts.
You understand the point, I think. Difference is intriguing. I have been in a women's asylum, and they all know. I have made a spectacle of myself in gentle company, and they all know. I have copulated with the intended of my dear friend on the eve of her wedding, and destroyed her first marriage in the cradle. Missing limbs or dark skin or scandal, anything that titillates and frightens, they make it a point to know it. They pretend to be instructing themselves - on the anatomy of a woman from the dark continent, on the morality of a fallen female, but it is pure pleasure, a moment of hilarity. None know any more, the intentions, the hows, the whys, the human heart beneath the flesh, but that is superfluous detail.