• 목록
• 답변
• 글쓰기
• 게시판 리스트 옵션
  • 수정
  • 삭제

MAN’S age is of man’s life a thing apart; ’tis woman’s whole existence." Thus saith the poet and thus saith I. The three years that Angela Bish was twenty-three have been the happiest in her life. All she wished was to glue her lips to a man’s and see what happened. I see a lady within the rear of the room raising her hand. But nothing had. To make sure, a number of men had entered her life, but upon seeing her, they'd left hurriedly by a rear window. Angie barely listened. She was pondering, When he is as soon as my husband nothing shall part us except jury obligation. She didn’t, actually, have a single husband. For the very fact was, the sad fact, if you happen to have a look at it that means, Angela Bish was insane. But it by no means did, and so, what Angie wished to know was, When had been they going to be married?

A lot so, that each man she sees seems to be her husband, attempting to escape. The man ran, also. Still she smiled, and hoped anew, like a man looking an oyster stew for the oyster. So waited Angela Bish, waited while she appeared to see her youth departing, softly, silently, like a corridor roomer who hasn’t paid his rent. The perpetraitor had been instantly removed to the Psychopathic Ward and treated with chopped ice; however to Angela Bish the occasion was so solemn and holy that she had not washed that kiss off her lips for a month, and on that last day you might distinctly see twenty-eight espresso rings surrounding her mouth. "Build up a semblance of chin, rearrange your nostril, blow up your eyes and-let’s see, two or three coats of rose-pink and a good varnish-a type of you can pour boiling water on, you recognize, and after sandpapering your cheeks all the way down to a shapely curve-oh, Miss Bish, how I've longed to see what I may do with a really ugly face!

Your eyes are poorly fenestrated, and there's one thing about your general nasal expression that-you aren’t seasick are you, or anything, are you, Miss Bish? She had a mild Alderney expression on her face that was very restful. "You are removed from stunning," he admitted; "your face is on wrong. In her current state everybody says that she is far, far more intelligent than when she was actually sane. Are there any extra questions? But there is always a compensation for all misfortunes. He hadn’t been so shocked since a missionary had instructed him that there were savage tribes in Central Africa who had by no means been manicured. She would have married anyone who was even partly a man-a mandrake, or amanuensis. It was chubby, and talked as if his epiglottis was stuffed with cabinet pudding-and even stewed bananas. ’twas full of sinister which means. Her semi-tropical fancy had already pictured him, a baby grand Chesterfield, richly upholstered in Scotch tweeds, with, perhaps, if it wasn’t hoping a lot, carved Louis XIV legs. Angie wasn’t all for anything female, together with herself. But Angie was brave, and the blood twinkled in her veins.

Only as soon as in her life had Angie been kissed. Speak, before we're harnessed for all times! And, as husbands are at all times attempting to flee, perhaps Angie may be proper, in spite of everything! But alas, husbands don’t come as simply as that, do they, Lillian? Don’t you think marriage is a stupendous disease? One kiss in twenty-four years works out to about 1-8760 of a kiss per day. One has to exit and catch them, like alligators or colds. Hoping against hope, Angie meditatively took off one slipper. Angie had never had a nibble to her title. Not by Angie. She had no concept that she was now nearing forty-5; no idea that anyone knew it. "I might make you lovely," it was now saying. "I had ’em all pulled out," said Angie, "when I was sixteen. "I would like," he said, if indeed we should call him he, which we actually must, quickly, at least, "I want to find a feminine with a lavender soul! "Not the soul of your foot," he defined, "What I need to see, my pricey, is your psychic self. How I might enhance it, gown it, decorate it to attune together with your soul! Life, now, is one lengthy lucid interval.