Eden is just a purgatorial place (with no sex)

In the country of Hell there is a town named Heaven. Contrary to general belief Heaven is no paradise. Few people know this because Heaven is far away and the only means of getting there is by catching the weekly train which is slow, uncomfortable and crowded with ragged and smelly cows and goats. Although the fare price is exorbitant there is no guarantee that you will find a seat. In fact there is no guarantee that you will get to your destination at all.

There are equal odds that you will find yourself in the neighbouring town of Paradise instead. This small metropolis is the home of Fiona Fuckmewell a voluptous spinster of uncertain age. She is the target of Homer How´s ardent courtship. Homer beeing the ticketcollector of the train had no problem rerouting the train since his collegues in the locomotive were equally convinced that the more of Paradise the better. To some extent this preference was founded on the existense of four objects of worthy worship. To be specific – the mountainous peaks protruding from the upper part of Prudence Fuckmewell, Fiona`s sister and their stepsister Votzy Onmeback.

Any person with experience or not-yet-experienced-but-hope-to-get-some will understand the irresistable forces that drove the men from the path to Heaven and delivered them in Paradise instead.

At this point it may be proper to disclose that all the three men from the railway belonged to the cathegory not-very-experienced-but-more-than willing. Where their female counter-parts rated is unknown for the general public as well as themselves. Men of course not being the first to be informed.

Fiona and Prudence had neat voices and practised regularly in the church choir. Few sundays where missed. The congregation underwent little change. Fiona met the same faces at the Post office week after week. Prudence had steady customers at the Library. And Votzy served tea or coffee at the café “Adam and Eve”, which was locally known as The Snake. If you leaned over the counter a sign with the text “NO APPLES” was visible. It was the only outbreak of a sense of humour emanating
from the owner Dick Wankman. But that was long ago. Ribald jokes are no hits in

At the Post office employes had their name signs on the counter. A stranger might blush or stammer, or more often both when encountering miss Fuckmewell. But the latter just ventured the information that it is pronounced “Fuel” with ultima stressed. Sometimes she added the explanation that ultima is the last syllable. It was all very matter-of-factly. Such as one would expect from a plain woman. And Fiona, one must admit was plain.

Someone may use the word “flat” and not be far off the mark. Yes, Fiona lacked the four attributes with which her sisters made men feel either weak or overwhelmed, but she was not unattractive. Nor was she plainly dull. Not at all.
Once and for all having accepted the fact that beauty was not a burden that she would have to carry around she simply put the subject aside.

Eden is just a purgatorial place (with no sex)


Joined December 2007

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