If I told you that I recently came across a wonderful new torch and that I took off its bottom to leave its rear exposed. Then I forcibly insert a large battery into its cavity but had to force it in. This resulted in a brighter glow because of all the extra volts. The torch and I were radiant with excitement!
Yes, I do write — sometimes even for a living — and that titillating passage above has been crafted to be suggestive. It’s rammed tight and firmly filled with innuendo. Of course it is. It wouldn’t be very entertaining if it wasn’t. How would you like to experience this blissful force of long life batteries?
|Oooh… Man in the tunnel!|
All this is suggestion. Have I written anything that a child could not read to mean anything further that I have put the wrong batteries into your torch? After all, it’s not like I tried to drive my train through a new station tunnel now have I?
What you read into the words before you is out of my control. I do not have such penetrating abilities. Therefore the blame for interpretation must lay with the reader.
When you next feel the puritanical urge to comment in condemnation of a racy passage to literary pleasure you should first sensor your own mind. Perhaps my battery pack is simply not interested in compatibility with stupidity and bigotry.
One size does not quietly fit all. Sometimes there is an audible gasp of unrequited
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