An Intrinsic Exquisite

fantastical

imagination

creates shapes for us to elicit slowly through the sieves of language
image and form

I hate waiting, Gina thought. it is not in my nature to wait. but my nature is that of a woman and as a woman I am by nature a waiter. oh, my, may I take your order?

she laughed. got out of the tub. pulled the plug. listened for a minute to the water being sucked swirling, into the drain twisting a testament to its hemisphere

should I or should I not wash the scum off the tub? it's easier to do it while it's soft, before it dries and turns all crusty. but I want to move on. the ever present struggle twixt duty-sense and sense-stimulation

she almost always chose duty. Alistair almost always chose stimulation. so, given the choice, from passion, she would create structure whereas he would go on to initiate new passion

and his constant renewal of the beginning made her feel like her life was being lived on one of those weird plastic sketch things, when you lifted it up, everything that you had placed there disappeared

ahe fucking hated that

ahe cleaned the scum off the tub, rinsed it down the drain, pulled the shower curtain closed

the phone rang again