09/02/2026 01:59

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“ Not much,” I said, lifting my fork, poking at the gray and brown substance that had been hersoul. But I did, without reserve. Up on the veranda of a resident hotel, a gaggle of middle-class white women,the cream of Southern womanhood. I can’ t see anyone shorter than that if I look through the pane.

Their naked, fleshy breasts hung on the window ledges like Dali-esque melting casabas, waitingto ripen. The fingers were oddly long and graceful. Nonetheless, it ain’ t all no-necks and polyester crotches. And returned to the company, with explicit instructions it was to be melted down to slag.