He found the bland solemnity of it all boring and false. Funeral directors were the worst, savants at coining bloodless euphemisms for death like “a... her journey’s end,” and “in eternal rest.” She wasn’t in eternal rest. She wasn’t resting. She was just dead, and that’s what how he wanted to put it to everyone: “She is dead. She is just dead.” He wanted to close the subject quickly and honestly. If the subject stayed open, as well meaning acquaintances probed further, he’d feel an unreasonable. There was no medical logic to it in all truth but I was not arguing the fact that I had survived for some four hundred years already with countless young virgins under my belt and many other females added to my list of constant companions bouncing between my muscular thighs impaled on my oversized cock of some impressive length and girth.I had the servant girls bring up oodles of hot water for both ladies to take their cleansing baths in the perfumed waters and cleansing soaps from Italy that. I was starting to get hard. Then I recalled our last night together, her with Don, and I grew angry all over again. Clair knew me and instantly understood the mood switch. I had carried the box in the house and dropped it and turned to her ready to kick her back out the door. Tears were running down her face. She looked crushed. She said in a small voice, "I had hoped we could become friends if nothing else. I am so sorry for hurting you. You are the best man I know, at everything, I miss you. I knew inside that I was Denise,Kathy's roommate, but I had no past memories of being her other than whathad happened the night before. The body felt entirely natural, as if itwas the only one I ever had known . I sat there on the bed staring at Kathywaiting for her next instruction. "Okay, so what do two red blooded American girls like us do on aSaturday afternoon? What else? Go shopping. Come on let's shower and getdressed." I walked over to Denise's closet and picked out a fuzzy.
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