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May 1999

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At the beginning, she was nothing more than a name on a paycheck. I cannot reliably say how many times Miss Ana Valdis collected her enolument at my mahogany desk. For the longest time, my senses were not attuned to her soft whispers of acknowledgement and downcast eyes. In my nescience, I surrounded myself with gewgaws - women whose physical effulgence served, if only temporarily, to conceal the exiguity of their character. I attracted them with my luxurious lifestyle and we shared every pleasure possible for two travelers whose paths intersect. I never had desire nor need to change my path to fit theirs', finding pleasure in the company of many women seriatim.


Upon the dissolution of one such relationship, I sought out a bivouac with one from the same fiber, yet something hindered the alchemy of my anatomy, the thaumaturgy of her thighs.

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