By Thurston Breekes, 1837

Dresednya was the most beautiful woman in the hamlet. So glorious was her porcelain skin, so lush her feathered raven-coloured hair, and so unsettling the shape and movement of her bustle that she could only take her outdoor daily constitutional once the evening was established. Through this strategy, Dresednya believed she would not be as likely noticed by the town’s gentlemen, male beasts of burden, and women who shun the ribbons and frilly nature that otherwise typifies their gentle gender.

Still, the occasional businessman, barrister, exploiter, or ladies’ advice columnist would often, after a supper probably not worthy of his day’s efforts, step out onto his veranda to escape the stifling environment created by the wife who insists on interaction. And, while enjoying a session with his snuff or performing a deserved release, such a gentleman could not be expected to but not but help glimpse Dresednya’s smooth-edged shadow even in the night and find a story in his visionary mind in which he assume the role of strapping young hero, who bravely follows her shrieks of distress and, upon finding her, shoves that which dangles from his less cultivated regions up within her.

What also added to Dresednya’s aura of mystery was the simple fact that no one could answer whence she came. She was simply a part of the hamlet’s dramatis personae as long as anyone could remember. No one could have not either nor neither claimed to have seen the inside of her home as well. Those gentlemen who imagined breaking into her abode and forcing themselves upon her were at a loss as whether to daydream bending her over a Rococo chair, laying her acrost a rough peasant-style table, or pouring her into George III-style gravy boat .

Dresednya also wore always a blood red-coloured ribbon around her single soft delicate neck.

(to be continued)

*Beautiful, even though the word sounds like it should mean the exact opposite.