{ ... }

 

۞

  “We've just seen our perfect vision,” said Mister William Quincy.  

  Mister William Quincy was admiring Tulpa. Quincy lovèd the dark look of her. Her black tie upon her bright white shirt emphasisèd the chocolate tone of her skin.  

  “'Cause we stayed up all night to achieve it … ” replièd Tulpa.  

  Pillow talk went wanting, however, ascending, after the professional editing of news hacking. Reporting.

  Tulpa caught a sunrise with Quincy after an all-nighter as a subber. She might even get a shot at the Editor. Things were going well for her. She felt a passion move her, and Quincy saw it stir within her. He decidèd to make a pass at her.

  °How could I deny her?° he thought to himself, 

  {moments before}

  {feeling opportunistic}  

  Tulpa never had denièd Quincy. She fancièd him, actually. In fact, she had written about him in her diary.  

  Tulpa had confidèd in him, to her secret centre. Her heart and her tongue had spoken Shadda and her thirst was satisfièd. Quenchèd by the loving feelings, those risings and stirrings, upon two ends when meeting. They held hands and then kissèd. 

  The sun rose, and their moment was set against a golden blushing dawn. Aphrodite cracked the sky. Aphrodite over Blighty. One star in sight. How sightly …

۝