We
need to do a ritual. The ritual begins with beautiful talk and anticipation,
said Dr. Jane Wormsly one night as she and Lohbado met at the Busy Bee Motel to
reconnect with joy. Together they enjoyed warm cozy comfort and ecstatic
intimacy or blissful intermingling.
“I
will initiate you into the mysteries of the Bee Hive,” said Jane, as Lohbado
gazed at a mauve note pad on the bedside table, where Jane had scribbled a few
ideas after they entered the room half an hour ago, before they showered and
changed into silk gowns. Jane wrote with a 24 karat Sailor fountain pen and
caput mortem ink. Deep red ink showed up nicely on mauve pad.
She’d
written a few words about an arched old yellow brick alcove where voyeurs met
in the shadows. Apparently from a certain angle one could see directly into the
Seven Mysteries Yoga and Astral Carpet Sacred Gong Studio.
One
afternoon Jane on her way into a thrift store saw a back limousine pull up. An older man with long silky white hair and a long white silk scarf and black linen suit
got out. A sporty young uniformed chauffeur held the door and guided the old man
to a bench in the alcove. Apparently some pervert from the Goo-Goo Underground
published a series of special interest guidebooks for people willing to pay for
it.
So
anyway, the beige brick alcove was on the list of scenic lookouts for voyeurs.
I know this is sick. I apologize if you’re squeamish. It’s part of my research
into the psychological impact of brain parasites, said Jane, as she snuggled up
to Lohbado.
They
positioned pillows so they could sit up in bed and enjoy a glass of wine before
beginning their lying down and flailing about dance. Sexual deviation,
the elegant old man stood in the alcove. Well, I’ll leave the rest to your
imagination. But I want you to promise me you won’t turn out like that. Lohbado
promised.
The
dance and yoga participants must have known about the voyeurs, said Jane. If
this is too sick, please let me know and I’ll stop. I’m only telling you this
because you asked. I believe they were closet exhibitionists. Some people get
turned on by the thought of being watched and secretly admired.
The
scarlet wine was a bit funky, but quite stimulating. A clot of mucous choked
Lohbado. He coughed up a bloody red pudding.
That’s
the cleansing effect, said Jane. Your body ridding itself of toxins.
Lohbado
coughed up a second ball. It bounced on the fake wood floor and rolled in front of the
entertainment unit opposite the bed. Jane laughed and told him about Lord
Wooabong and his jumping soldiers versus General Foakheem and the Fury
Fighters. She grabbed him by the back of the neck to show him how it was done.
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