I had long since decided this with my brain, as the evidence for thisbeing real began to outweigh how impossible it all was; But everythinghad still felt very dreamlike---not quite solid somehow---right up untilshe'd put this thing on my head."Well that's done," she smiled, and went to take the tiara back.Maybe it wasn't the beautiful little crown itself that had made me feelsuddenly grounded in this mermaid reality, but it somehow seemed likeit, and as she reached out for it my hand went up to hold it right whereit was. "Can't I wear it?" What do you mean, wear it?" I mean... you know, on my head. Just for a day or so..." Don't be silly!" Not even for an hour? Pleeeeease?!" I asked, in a whiny juvenile voicethat surprised me.Maybe it was that little wanna-be princess I had once been, who hadnever owned even a cheap plastic toy tiara (she had always been draggedpast them in the toy store, toward more "gender appropriate" toys), andwho really, really, really didn't want to let go of. As she navigated he would steal glances at her during the few seconds she was not staring at his handsome, if rugged face. She was wearing an off white denim shirt with the top three buttons opened. He couldn’t tell if she wore a bra or not. He had always noticed her breasts. Not at all because of their size. They were hardly large. Rather they were very round and moved with her, without moving about her. They were a part of her, not something outside of her to be admired. One more detail in the portrait. She was beautiful. Skin tanned without being unnatural. Nothing in her hair but dust and dandelion seeds. She was earth. ‘I can’t stand it anymore.’ And with that she leapt upon him. Her hand was moving between his crotch and waist, not know where she wanted to be. Her mouth captured his ear and advanced on his neck. Stopping just below his lobe, tongue, and lips, and lung, worked him into a fit. He pulled the truck off the gravel road and there in the afternoon sun the made love.
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