(Untitled)

[poison_pearl]

I have been idle, these past few months, perhaps lulled into complacency by the constant repetition of days; I was ever a creature of routine, having nothing else, marking off the passage of an hour by the task I perform, as if I were but an ornament in a clock, run by gears and pendulums, lacking any sort of motive force of my own. Indeed, I had

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[antiwhorish]

Angela was curious about what types of books a person might offer in the marketplace, when they could be had from the bookshelf at any time.

She picked one up to browse through it, but only made it a few paragraphs before she gasped and snapped it shut, scandalized.

"This is smut," she hissed at the girl. Perhaps she was unaware of what she was selling, as Angela did not think she looked like a purveyor of pornography.

[poison_pearl]

My word, an honest-to-god-and my impression, formed in seconds, is that god is who she supposes to answer to-reaction of outrage and shock; I've grown so used to denizons as blasé as any of my uncle's colleagues that for a moment I can but regard her as if she were a rare creature. A unicorn, perhaps, would be an apt analogy.

"Certainly," I say, holding in the sudden, perverse urge to laugh, "that is one word for it. Would you like some?"

[antiwhorish]

"No, I would not."

Angela had become more or less used to living her life surrounded by all kinds of questionable behavior. It didn't mean she had to like it, or overlook it when it showed up in places she was expecting it less than usual.

"You can't just have things like this out here where anyone can see them! There are children, and possibly decent people, around."

[poison_pearl]

I raise my eyebrows, still somewhat amused. Proud, too, as once upon a time, such as when I first arrived here, I believe I would have quailed, been embarrassed. I would have believed this woman the first in a wave that would overwhelm and drown me in a sea of disapproval.

Today, I think of her rather as a puddle.

"You will not become degraded simply by looking at the cover of a book," I say, and then glance to my side and amend, "at least, none of the ones I have left within easy reach. If you're worried about becoming contaminated, perhaps you had best take a step back?" I speak with great care for her wellbeing. "You might catch licentiousness."

[antiwhorish]

"It's not the cover I'm concerned with. It's the contents." Though Angela did, in fact, believe that a book could very well be judged by what it looked like, offensive content masquerading as a normal book was even worse. Kind of like this girl, who didn't look at all whorish but seemed to have some tendencies toward it.

Still, she took a step backwards to avoid getting any of it on her.

[poison_pearl]

"Should you be?" I ask, leaning forward and resting my chin in my palm. "Who knows what thinking about such matters as are detailed within the pages of these works could do to you." I press my fingers to my lips, in a parody of shock. "You could find yourself enjoying it, oh, think of how terrible that would be!"

[antiwhorish]

"No one would have to think about it if you didn't have it lying out here in public." Angela's scowl deepened, though that hardly seemed possible. "And I don't want to discuss what I enjoy with anyone. I'm a married woman."

That her husband had been gone for a long time did not matter. It stull wasn't anyone's business.

[poison_pearl]

"Not even your husband?" I ask, reconsidering my words as soon as I have spoken them. For, after all, there is this: "Or does he not care? I suppose that is all too often the case, with men."

[antiwhorish]

"My husband is none of your business!" Angela snapped. Dwight had cared plenty, but Angela wasn't going to go around talking about such things with strangers. "I wouldn't know about other men."

[poison_pearl]

"You could find out!" I tell her, with some suppressed glee leaking into my tone; if it is not as suppressed as it could be, that is quite on purpose. "Any number of these volumes are filled with insights and details into such, as explicit as you could possibly hope for."

[antiwhorish]

"No, thank you, I would rather not," replied Angela icily. She wiped her hands on her skirt, feeling dirty just from proximity to such filth. She hoped someone else would be selling soap, if not a decent disinfectant, as she moved on to less offensive parts of the market place.

[poison_pearl]

"Are you sure?" I say, leaning to the side and fetching a volume to myself. "If you'd rather not touch the books, I could always read you some excerpts." I make as if to open the book.

[antiwhorish]

"That is quite all right," said Angela quickly, taking another step backwards. "I'm sure I need to shop for something that isn't indecent."

And she walked away to take her business (such as it was, with the sad lack of money) elsewhere, uncharitably hoping that the Pornography Booth did not get many customers.