Settimana Santa

[tag: Isabel Giovanni]

All last summer he's seen girls parading their breasts and belly buttons... and even now, with the first bit of sun, they show their flabby folds and white legs like plucked chicken. What vulgar displays of flesh this age seems to find erotic... And it's not that he minds nakedness, God no; both Fiammetta and his sister have worn less, but-

Shaking his head as if to clear it, Cesare slides a thumb-nail through the tape sealing the package. The perfumed silk paper glides rustling to the floor, revealing two layers of black lace, separately wrapped in yet more paper. He hadn't been able to decide upon which mantilla, so he got both, the antique one from the 1750's and the new, designed in an atelier in Barcelona.



( Funny on what small things it hinges, this semblance of modesty. )