The cold waves dashed over her cold breasts, and the salt glistened upon her eyelids. So beautiful was she that when the young Fisherman saw her he wa... filled with wonder, and he put out his hand and drew the net close to him, and leaning over the side he clasped her in his arms. And when he touched her, she gave a cry like a startled sea-gull, and woke, and looked at him in terror with her mauve-amethyst eyes, and struggled that she might escape. But he held her tightly to him, and would not. But her neatly sharpened and painted nails were rummaging through his shirt and he couldn’t think about anything but that. He thought of her pigtails, held up with purple rubber bands, how it looked down her bare back. How Haley’s hair looked. How she smelled that day. God, he thought, I can’t get into this. He focused back on Stacey, who was now fiddling with his belt, his shirt unbuttoned completely. ‘Stacey,’ he said. She looked up from unzipping his fly. ‘I have to go. I forgot I need to. More

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