Below Solomon's Temple
"I find, if I shake my
balls," grabs my attention as the opening to a statement, spoken as if
into my ear. It makes me glance up.
The voice that sounded so close belongs to a man who is actually some way off, apparently illustrating his words with an unfortunate mime. He and a woman are approaching from above, descending along one of the permutations of pathway. Although I can see them, it seems that they can't yet see me sat here in the valley, veiled as I am by mist. It must also be that the mist is increasing the amplitude of his interjection, his ejaculation so to speak, which continues, "it makes me go stiffer."
His display of ingenuity in overcoming impotence is suspended when he notices me sat on this bench, suddenly distinct among buttercups, their yellow at once accenting the white mist. I hear him say to the woman, quieter but still surprisingly discernible at this distance: "Do you think he heard me?"
The voice that sounded so close belongs to a man who is actually some way off, apparently illustrating his words with an unfortunate mime. He and a woman are approaching from above, descending along one of the permutations of pathway. Although I can see them, it seems that they can't yet see me sat here in the valley, veiled as I am by mist. It must also be that the mist is increasing the amplitude of his interjection, his ejaculation so to speak, which continues, "it makes me go stiffer."
His display of ingenuity in overcoming impotence is suspended when he notices me sat on this bench, suddenly distinct among buttercups, their yellow at once accenting the white mist. I hear him say to the woman, quieter but still surprisingly discernible at this distance: "Do you think he heard me?"
