supthos

As the Sun approached its summit Joanne could feel her sweat glands transpire with every step. Meanwhile, her mind was a hot mess of checklists she had amassed over the years of her young life. Plenty since losing her innocence. Performing an occult library’s worth of rites to incarnate the pantheon of Goddesses of sex, passion, sensuality and fascination on her way to the restaurant proved to be indispensable for reining back in her thought processes and emotions. So, she knew, whether her date was there or not, whoever her date turned out to be that she wouldn’t lose her freedom nor lose her conscience. Neither would she end up heartbroken that day. In the face of the new millennium, honor may be better lost than protected or avenged. “Miss?” the hostess was dumbfounded as Joanne Bergson dashed into the hall like a thunderbolt, opened a chair after dodging two or three waiters, and a runner, and sits down at a table with a man counting large amounts of money, smoking a cigar. The mom...

"It will be electronically possible for him to tune into any specific female he wants to and follow in detail her every movement. The females will kindly, obligingly consent to this, as it won't hurt them in the slightest and it is a marvelously kind and humane way to treat their unfortunate, handicapped fellow beings." --Valerie Solanas, SCUM Manifesto (1968) Joanne Bergson could've just ordered her cappuccino to-go that clear-skied, Summer Monday morning. It didn’t even matter that three bus stops away, a self-made millionaire had been waiting for her to join him for breakfast at one of the city’s most sought-after upscale restaurant. She was determined at all costs to enjoy herself and indulge her fancies. As her name was nervously called by a teenaged boy with a face so full of acne, you could run a butter knife across his face and cover both halves of a poppy seed bagel, she snatched fifty euros from her minute designer purse and passed it to him as both their fi...