30 December 2012
Farmer’s Wife, circa 1963
THE cows would have to wait. She unpacked the perfume (mail order) after locking her daughter’s bedroom door. The bottle had a baggy thingy (like a docked blimp or a tiny punching bag or one of those Ambu bags that medics used in ambulances and in emergency rooms): that is, a perfume atomizer. She took off all her clothes and milked a small cloudlet (is that redundant?) of fragrance, closed her eyes, posed her arms as if they were about to take on a load of split firewood or scatter the chickens, and paraded through the mist. Arching her back and lifting her chin, she could have been a model for a hood ornament.