To: K-list
Recieved: 2001/05/13 06:42
Subject: [K-list] Delightful
From: Nina Murrell-Kisner
On 2001/05/13 06:42, Nina Murrell-Kisner posted thus to the K-list:
Delightful found herself soaking in the tub, wearing her ten ton
wardrobe, sopping wet, weighted down, wondering what to do.
Of a practical bent, Delightful rose, not without some labor, water
sheets tying her deeply down, bent on baring her soul, or at least
loosening her load.
Off with her head, she crowed, hands dragging dripping well wrapped arms
towards her multibespectacled eyeballs. She could not be sure there were
hands beneath those mittens, but she was willing to bet on it, as they,
without much discrepancy, followed her mental bidding. Onward, Upward,
the internal Delightful trilled, ready for work. The woolen mits rose
towards her crown.
One hat, then another, followed by another, flew through the brim
whirring resonant air, a flurry of felt and feathers, rims and
rhinestones, sequins, pins, woven straw, wooly wraps, flowers and
fishing lures, headlamps and sweaty playing cards (how did those get in
there?) rained from her head, hand mits initiating wild trajectories
towards the tiled floor. Delightful's bidden mittens paused in the
middle of a spiral dance of turban unscrewing, the outline of a cowgrrl
hat rapidly taking form beneath the remaining twirl of fabric.
Deep inside the buttoned, zipped, knotted and tied up Delightful, slight
unsettlings began to bubble. Or perhaps Delightful began to notice. It
was time for an experiment.
Delightful took a breath, as deep as her bound body would allow, and,
with her eyes screwed tightly shut, shook her mits mightily. What
Delightful did not see was the storm. What Delightful did see was the
litter on the floor, a layer including, among other things, white silk
debutante gloves, fingerless woolen knitted gloves, oven mits, plastic
finger condoms. She only vaguely remembered these bubbles and where they
percolated from.
Delightful's hands and arms, bones for her wardrobe, flew like
horseflies across her form, furiously unbuttoning, unzipping,
unknotting, untying. Discarded clothing piled layer upon layer upon the
floor. And still another article to remove. Delightful wasn't getting
any lighter.
Dreadful laughed. Pragmatism shied.
It's blasted warm in here, not delightful at all, she shrilled. Bubbles
tickled her nose, rubbed along her innards, slipsliding along the walls
of pores, the birth of another article already underway, layers of her
skin shedding to the form of the latest style. Lace, leather, canvas,
cotton, wool and winter gabardine.
Oh, hell, Delightful abdicated to Dreadful. He laughed again, and
abdicated back. In this split second, Delightful grew two more skins,
getting thicker at the waist.
Internal Delightful wrestled Dreadful, hysteria evident in her fury.
Fabric skins flew, fabric skins grew, Dreadful played along. Inches
deeper inward Delightful disappeared, hot under her many collars, raging
on as layer upon layer of fabric grew from her and enveloped her
completely, fully, for miles upon miles, many more miles than the inside
of that tub fitted, tile floored bathroom could have possibly held. This
curiosity stopped Delightful dead, a new noticing on her internal.
Delightful's center held within that infinite wardrobe.
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