I, Effing Feline, post this weekly column on behalf of my pet human, Ed Hoornaert, aka Mr Valentine.
My cousin Lee, who lives in a zoo, read about the weight gain I mentioned in last week’s post, and sent me a picture of him to inspire me. Thanks, Lee! I feel thinner just looking at you.
Today’s snippet will be one of the last from Thimbleriggers, a story in Future Love, Mr V’s new release. Young pornographer Aldous has used an experimental device to record, for resale, 90-year-old Kathy’s erotic memories … but while monitoring the memories, he’s fallen for her.
After the recording session, she wakens and Aldous pays her. (Edited slightly from the published version to fit the 10-sentence limit.)
Kathy looked at his face, then lower, at the stain on his slacks. She grabbed the bills, flung them at him, and said, “I hate you.”
The money fluttered through the air like obscene confetti — but before the last bills reached the floor, she labored to her knees to retrieve them. Aldous went down to help her. The top of her dress gaped away from her thin body … just like in the band room. He couldn’t tear his gaze away; her breasts were wrinkled and pendulous, but they were hers.
“You . . . you’re looking down my dress?”
He expected her to turn away like a shy eighteen-year old in a band room; when she didn’t, he continued to stare, eager for life to start all over again — but this time with him, not David.
Kathy slowly sat on the sofa like an achy old woman. She chuckled.
Effing Feline here again. Beware of chuckling 90-year olds! They’re probably thinking of an ancient I Love Lucy episode when they should be dishing out the catfood.
Again, Lee, my thanks. I’ll start exercising next week, I promise. Maybe next month. Until then, I’ll look at your picture often.
The special introductory price of just 99c expires this coming Wednesday. If you haven’t gotten it yet, do it soon. Your wallet will thank you.