” The eye continues to watch through the peephole,drinking in all of the sights. You reach over and pick out a short little skirt to tryon. Slow...y you slide it on, wiggling your hips into it.A quick glance into the mirror confirms that the skirtfits, a bit short for public wear maybe, but onlybecause of the accidents that would be caused by peoplestaring as you sauntered past.The skirt is removed and tossed into the maybe pile.Slowly the door to the changing room opens. Quietly aman. It wasn’t hard to shut that kind of thing down, though. Usually you just had to ignore it. Anyway, she’d sooner have touched plutonium than touched any of her students -- she liked her job too much for that.She couldn’t help speculating, though. Given her own proclivities, and what she knew of growing up around animals, she had to wonder which of her students were exploring similar territory. There must be some. She paused at a paper with the name printed in thick, blocky letters: Noah. “I can’t see your mate, Injontas. Neither do I see Khor, Maldurin or Balkhor. I didn’t expect them, and would feel most surprised if my mother, Feya, and her mate Cointas had come, but I wonder where Nyome is.” She pondered wandering amongst the kneeling gods. “Ohh, how impolite of me! You may rise of course.” Kassja said when no one reacted.When the gods had risen, Ipochone smiled at Kassja. “As an older you have to be indulgent with the youth. I and my siblings, we failed terribly in that. They were elegant, solidly constructed, and made out of brownstone. Once this had been a fashionable address. Now it was empty of tenants.Ellen was walking to visit her husband. He was interred in the family mausoleum in the cemetery up ahead. The family had been rich and prominent during the nineteenth century. Back then, they had owned a mansion in the area. Now it was empty too. Ellen's husband had been the remaining heir of the family, when there was nothing left to inherit.Several blocks.
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