From: annie@canetoad.UUCP (Picasso-puss)
Newsgroups: alt.prose
Subject: Compromising Gorgeous
Distribution: world
Date: 2 Jan 93 21:35:24 EDT
Organization: The Satellite of Love

The moon shimmered like a desert mirage. It skimmed and
bounced over the waters of the bay:

	water polluted by industry
	water stirred by the skating of long-legged bugs
	water shat in by fish
	water under the bridge

Gorgeous didn't care. Gorgeous ignored the moon's prancing
and jiggling. She walked the beach, head bent down and 
forward, looking for treasures in the sand.

"If I can find a parrot's beak, a longshoreman and a ticket
to San Francisco, I shall be perfectly happy for the rest
of my life."

Presently she happened upon a bird. The bird waddled
back and forth on a bit of driftwood, its head hung at
precisely the same angle as Gorgeous'.

"What do you seek?" asked Gorgeous.

The bird replied without lifting its head, merely rolling its
eyes up to look at her. "Naught but relief. You are quite
beautiful, you know."

"I'm Gorgeous, yes. Relief from what?"

"The weight of my mouth, or beak if you will. The law says
that I cannot be rid of it, except by offering it as a gift.
You...?"

"Of course." With a quick twist, she took the beak off.

The bird, smiling with its soft, bald orifice, flapped away
over the water.

"A beak's a beak, I suppose." Gorgeous walked on.

"Heigh-ho! Watch the feet."

She stopped so fast that her knees locked, and she pitched
forward into the sand. She turned her head and found
herself at eye level with a man, buried up to his neck. He
grinned at her, one gold tooth flashing in the moonlight.

"I'm ppfffthshtht," she spat out sand, "very sorry. Did I step
on you, sir? Pfffft."

"No, but I might have enjoyed it. You're stunning, you know."

"I know. How did you come to be buried in sand?"

"A vindictive lover. Would you...?"

"Of course." With small pawing motions, she dug a trench around
him. Finally he was able to break free.

"I am indebted to you, madam. How shall I repay your kindness?"

"Skip the formalities. Marry me."

He fell on one knee, pressed her hand between his two.
"Consider it done. I am yours forever."

"A man's a man, I suppose." Gorgeous and the man walked on.

"May I drive you somewhere?" He pointed up the dune to the
nose of a car, just visible over the rise.

They walked closer, and she saw a slip of paper tucked under
the windshield wiper. The paper snapped in the wind. 
"What's that?" She stood very still.

He went to the car and bent over the windshield, then turned
to stare up at a sign. His lips formed the words: No Parking.
"It's a ticket."

In a moment she was by his side. "Give me."

She took the ticket, crumpled it, stuffed it into the bird's beak
and flung it out toward the water. The wind caught it, tossed
it up in front of the moon, where it hung a moment before 
dropping back to the sand.

"Now I'm ready," she said. "I've had my beak and my man
and my ticket. Now I can be the first driver to go at a
four-way stop. I can answer my phone on the very first ring.
I can travel to Bali if I damned well like. Don't mind
the recipe; I'm ready, and I'll do as I please."

--
...uunet!canetoad!annie                          canetoad!annie@uunet.uu.net

Newsgroups: alt.prose