Back again
Once again appearing in the arch, the woman with a stubborn, or perhaps determined angle to the chin.
Like it were the first time, gently touching a finger tip to the cold stone, lingering a moment before peering through.
Like it were the first time, stepping to the round marble plinth in the centre of the large vestibule boasting a the note in a clean acrylic stand: WELCOME TO THE HOUSE OF MASKS. TO ENTER YOU MUST REMOVE ALL ITEMS OF CLOTHING AND JEWELERY, AND DON THIS MASK.
Like it were the first time fondling the ears on the ass mask, delaying a moment before scratching a second time at the base of the ear. Wonderful how realistic the ears feel, like they have a life of their own.
Like it were the first time returning to read the final instruction on the note: THERE WILL BE ABSOLUTELY NO TALKING OR MAKING ANY SOUNDS NOT SUITABLE TO THE ANIMAL REPRESENTED BY THE MASK.
Like it were the first time, holding the mask in one hand while walking around the perimeter of the oval vestibule, slowing to look into each of the multitude of dark arches leading away until returning to the entrance arch.
Perhaps.
The woman with the stubborn, or perhaps determined chin lost count of the arches, is not sure which arch is which. Step back to peer into the previous arch, step forward to peer into the next but one. The arches are all the same, all dark passages with no distinguishing marks.
The woman with the stubborn, or perhaps determined chin undoes the top three buttons and pulls on the mask, pulling the collar back over the joint of fur to skin and once again traverses the perimeter of the vestibule to peer I to each of the archers.
Perhaps peering into each more than once. There are no distinguishing features.
The stubborn woman with the ASS mask steps back to the table cautiously stepping out of one shoe then the next. One ankle sock then the next. Feeling the cool of the stone ne floor underfoot. Then trousers, unbuttoning, unzipping and hooking thumbs right in to pull down all undergarments with the trousers, rolling them into a bundle, perhaps to hide the undergarments, and placing the bundle on the table.
The stubborn woman with the ASS mask rests one hand on the table looking out towards the dark arches, examining each from the centre of the vestibule, keeping a hand on the table while walking round until a complete circuit noted by the discarded clothes. Then unbuttoning the shirt, unhooking the bra and placing the final items of clothing on the table.
The stubborn naked woman with the ASS mask steps towards an arch. Stops. Retreats, reads the notice again. Removes three rings and places them prominently on the table. Not hidden.
The stubborn naked woman with the ASS masks leaves through an arch, one of the many, it is possible this was the first time, but more likely it was
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