XVII

Torundel had a strange feeling of déjà vu. Maybe because Uranumsia wore dresses she found in his wife's wardrobe. She changed the dresses, cutting and sewing them in a fashion not seen for centuries, into a revealing and indecent style inspired by the forbidden wall paintings in grotto A23 in the mountains above the capital.

The style of Dykeia the whore, Dykeia the wife of Sang Hortuscany.

Uranumsia was obsessed with Dykeia; said she needed to feel like Dykia to write the shitposts. She gave him free access to any holes… except when she was reading, but he had to tolerate the chirping and mess of two little birds in a cage because Dykeia had loved her two birds more than her eyes. And yet he found it charming, and educated, and spirited.

‘Does Count B understand the repeated references to the hairy vagina of Fitta IV?’ she asked one evening.

‘Dear girl, he has no knowledge of anything relating to ancient literature!’

‘A shame!’ She giggled.

‘Listen lass, I have been thinking about asking your father if I can… buy you in marriage.’

Uranumsia looked at him in panic. ‘I have a lover. A young fisherman from up the coast,’ she whispered.

Torundel had a strange feeling of déjà vu.

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Torundel the Shitposter! part XVII

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