Garden Party
A tiny tendril of ivy wound its way up the thigh of the naked stone as if to make this bold woman of granite shy, the way it covered that place between her legs where—if she were alive—she'd accept the offerings of men. She held her head high, though her eyes were softly downcast; and her mouth was turned up as if she was keeping a secret.
It was lush in the garden in the afternoon at tea time. Long seductive shadows cast against the entangled foliage made leaves and flowers glow, as though there was a mellow fire dancing in their midst. Gentle folks meandered like the vines, almost in slow motion, their speech hushed. Prim suits and polished silk sportcoats attired the well-heeled gentlemen, while the ladies in demure skirts and fine jackets cast from their manicured fa
