She sat ever so still--her muttony knees touching. Her business skirt rode above her knees in an unprovacative way. After all, about 2 inches of hair rose straight out like so many porcupine quills. Darn the run in her nylons that left her bear legs bare. Darn the black hole that absorbs all stockings and nylons into its bottomless vortex. Darn the German ancestry that left her with dark hair.
She vowed she would never go unshaven again.
(Inspired by my awful shock on Sunday when I looked down at my knees to see the above-described scene. Thank heavens my friends chose to laugh at me behind my back! And this scene tells you why I stick to children's lit and not to something like, oh, a romance novel. )
