The Color Of Her Panties Read Free Page A

complexity.  “Is it all right if I sleep on the other pillows?  “
    “Be my guest,” Metria said grandly, fading away.
    In the morning Mela left the cozy den and searched out some fruits and nuts.  She needed to do something else, but wasn't sure how to manage it cleanly while wearing the clumsy legs; she wished she could return to the sea for a while or even an (ugh)!  freshwater pond, and not just for that.  The land was just such an awkward place!
    The Demoness Metria appeared, in her human form, standing in the air.
    “Must you go so soon?” she inquired.
    “I thought you wanted to be rid of me.”
    “I do.  I was being facetious.”
    “That's more like it.” Mela had relatively few illusions about demons, having encountered them on occasion.
    “You look squirmy.”
    “I would ask you whether there is water near, but you would only misdirect me.”
    “No, I would answer truly, because then you wouldn't believe me and would go the wrong way.” The demoness evidently understood why Mela wanted water, so was teasing her, demon fashion.
    “Never mind.  I'll do it in the den.” Mela headed for the beerbarrel tree.
    “Oh no you don't!  Go to that purpose bush over there.”
    Mela's left arm stretched out and her hand assumed the form of an arrow.
    “What kind of bush?”
    “Aim, design, province, sphere, object, what it's made for-”
    “Function?”
    “Whatever,” Metria agreed crossly.
    “What's a function bush?”
    “Just go there and see.  It's really quite natural.”
    Mela knew that this was mischief, but it was better to humor the demoness, whose mischief was surely not as bad as her anger.  She walked to the bush, which had the smell of manure.  Then suddenly she folded over and accomplished her business despite her clumsy form.
    A function bush:  now she understood its name.  It had its own way of collecting fertilizer.
    Mela straightened up and walked away from it.  “Thank you, Metria,” she said.  For the demoness had after all facilitated the necessary chore.
    “You're not mad?” Metria inquired, disappointed.
    “Furious.” There was an art to managing demons.
    “You're not going to throw any of it at me?”
    “That wouldn't be ladylike.”
    “It would just loop around and splat on you.”
    “That, too.”
    “You're just trying to be dull, so I'll lose interest and stop pestering you.”
    “Demons are getting smarter all the time.”
    “Well, it won't work!  I'll just tag along and see you mess up some other way.”
    “Suit yourself.”
    “Confound it!  I can't tell whether you even want to get rid of me! Maybe you prefer to have my company.”
    “I would prefer it even more if you were a male prince demon.  Perhaps you can get one to come and pester me in lieu of you.  Males can be such brutes.”
    “That does it!  I am going to stay and be perfectly nice to you!  What do you think of that?”
    Mela sighed.  “You are very sophisticated in your pestering.” The truth was that she didn't really care whether the demoness remained or departed; she just wanted to keep her on good behavior.
    They walked generally west, but the freshwater river threatened to return, with its pigs and things, so they veered south.  The land became hilly, so they veered some more to move along a contour.  The demoness was now walking on the ground, so that she seemed just like another mortal creature.  She was even solid, now; Mela could tell, because she left footprints.
    Then she heard a faint booming sound.  “What's that?”
    “A pronoun used to indicate a person, place, thing, idea, or state of being.  I keep confusing it with which.”
    “I don't mean the word!  I mean that sound.”
    “What sound?”
    Mela saw that the demoness was still teasing her.  She surely heard the booming and knew all about it, but wouldn't tell.  So Mela shut up and walked on.
    The booms became louder.  Finally she came to a series of small hills shaped like little mountains.