Vicky Swanky Is a Beauty Read Online Free PDF Page A

you so unpleasant?”
    I answered, “I don’t wish you well.”
    I threw my gloves on the floor and my hat. I had been wearing my dark blue coat. Drops of moisture were on our windows, and fog. We are a family. There’s a point to it and to the dimmer switch in the foyer. The next thing—my daughter was stepping along the corridor and out the door. I seriously did not think I was in the state I describe as reserved for me.

COMFORT
    She made assurances that satisfied her ambitions—saw the body interred, spent the rest of the week asking questions, suggesting action. She visited with her family and reminisced.
    Getting routine matters out of the way, she headed home after buying a grounding plug and ankle wrist weights.
    She fed the dog and put the boys to bed. Allen didn’t go to work.
    She received a call from a woman whose sister had died.
    She made some of those unequaled assurances, was escorted with the family to the grave. People seem to respond to her. She talked with them, gave a woman a played-out peck on the cheek.

    Getting routine matters out of the way, she attained riches, social position, power, studied for an hour or so, cleaned up, took the family to a movie, after which she forecasted her own death with a lively narration that gave her gooseflesh.
    She felt raw, pink and so fresh!

THE STRENGTH
    “I am going to cough,” I said. “Cough, cough.”
    I left Mary, my mother, to experience that by herself and went to get the dish—a lion couchant—with a slew of nuts in it, and I served us wine, and I coughed.
    Mary put her hand on the top of her head, as if she could not rightly rest it there.
    “Mary, how are you, Mary?” I said. “Now, Mary.”
    “Not so good,” she replied. “I’ve just been lying around.”
    Then she changed into the shape she pleased—an upright, independent person.
    My father, her husband—we were surprised—walked in, buttoning himself to depart. I had thought he was dead. His bad foot had killed him.

    My mother and my dead father provide strength for me. They recklessly challenge their competency.
    It is senseless to prevent them.

THIS HAS TO BE THE BEST
    It isn’t until a Bengal cat comes by—the Sheepshanks’ cat Andy—that I can see my way in the dark so to speak.
    This flame design decorates almost all of his body and the brilliancy demonstrates exceptional technique.
    When I pet the cat, I rough up too much of the detail, and the cat is yelling at me.
    I went to the sex shop after. I know the saleswoman there very well.
    And yet Brenda said, “I have never seen you before in my whole life!”
    This must be on account of the harsh light.

A MAN, AN ANIMAL
    At the cinema I watched closely the camels, the horses, the young actor taking his stance for the sexual act.
    He started up with a pretty girl we had a general view of.
    I felt the girl’s pallor stick into me.
    Another girl, in pink swirls alternating with yellow swirls, intruded.
    The girls were like the women who will one day have to have round-the-clock duty at weddings, at birthdays, at days for the feasts.
    Unaccountably, I hesitated on the last step of the cinema’s escalator when we were on our way out, and several persons bumped into me.

    An ugly day today—I didn’t mention that, with fifty mile per hour winds.
    But here is one of the more fortunate facts: We were Mr. and Mrs. Gray heading home.
    It has been said—the doors of a house should always swing into a room. They should open easily to give the impression to those entering that everything experienced inside will be just as easy.
    A servant girl was whipping something up when we arrived, and she carried around the bowl with her head bowed.
    We’ve been told not to grab at breasts.
    Before leaving for Indiana in the morning—where I had to clean up arrangements for a convention—I stood near my wife to hear her speak. So, who is she and what can I expect further from her?
    What she did, what she said in the next days, weeks and