One of hers had come, if memory served her right, as a free gift along with some other items she had acquired. She had been unable to muster more than a passing interest in 'A Concise Manual Of...' oh, almost revealed the subtitle. Who, for example, would more than briefly skim a section absurdly calling itself 'Rules of Erotic Improvisation'? Well? Right. In the gravitational field of their joint making, he never knew what was going to happen anyway. So, like other unused items and concepts, the book was left to float, collecting interstellar dust.



Anyway, it was never enciphered or anything. See? Here is the beginning of the foreword.



Yes, there was a ring that had come along with it, but it never decoded anything. It was an ordinary grade C megalomania enhancer. But who needed that? Was not homegrown, naturally developed megalomania so much saner?!!! Ah, the sensation of having stardust lovingly licked off her soles...



So, she has never hidden hers. She has placed them within full view à la The Purloined Letter, within his range of sight but ever out of his reach. His privilege: cold distance and heated closeness, be pushed, be held. Her privilege: send him into free fall, admire his flaming path, let him find a steady orbit again.

And, should he ever wish for a view from another angle, he would merely need to take a brief step out of their gravitational field, into that space where there is no above and below.