It wasn’t an answer it was a promise of things to come. I waited in uncomfortable silence until Sylvia came back into the room with a clothing rack...and an assistant. ‘Please strip down to your undergarments and step up on the pedestal.’ Figures the bitch is French. ‘Excuse me?’ ‘I need to take your measurement madamoiselle. I cannot do that with your clothes on.’ She sneered the words clothes as she looked at mine almost as if I were dressed in nothing but a burlap sack. ‘If you’ll excuse us. So your eyes open. You stare at me knowingly. I never though of being deaf until I was in your bed that night. I thought about how my eyes would talk to you. How you would stare down into my pupils and read my soul. And how like now, you would see the yearning in my eyes. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink. Yes? We have? Well, I don’t give a damn. And neither should you. You coil tightly around my body, press me hard into you. But you do it like a dance, like water. And you seem to coat every. More

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