Chapter 95

As he read his novel by the flickering warmth of the dying firelight, I gazed at him longingly. A most likely candidate for my attentions was he, aged from a multitude of unique experiences into the reclusive hulk of what once was. Beset by memories, and beyond the ability to procreate, he would soon cross over into my world of timeless freedom that he had barely glimpsed in dreams but dismissed as childlike fantasy. Yet deep within his loins, the seeds of life still churned with unfulfilled release beneath the lifeless organ of their deliverance. As my hunger grew, I wondered if he was one of the now numerous males that had their life delivering cords surgically mutilated in a barbaric attempt to prevent reproduc