Rosetta did not care to take the phone. She had turned her full
attention to that vase, its inscriptions, feel and projections. Its
material was light, the sort of ceramic that could break easily, but it
held a quality of tensility that was rare. Must be the Sudanese soil,
its fertility,its relation to feeding and the business of nutrition of
the newly born.
She stared at the symbol: the bosom. She realized that she did not
recognize it when she and Zeen bought the vase from the eastern-looking
man that Saturday.
He kept a few small rectangular tables on which he displayed unique
objects — a sheath, a sword, books by writers unheard of in our world
on subjects as weird as how to heal broken bones using mud.
That vase was among a group of others.
Rosetta remembered that this one caught her attention on account of its
deep beautiful blue base. Zeen liked it too, though the symbol at the
base had her placing her index finger at her chin as if noting the
messenger-quality of that choice of artistry.
She turned to the phone and saw that Zeen was trying to reach her. She
decided against calling her back, choosing rather to return to her
spaceship bed, its pillows and their world of designs.
Zeen had cut the conversation with Urd who had stopped at some gas
station. She told him she just wanted to focus tonight on a matter she
had been contemplating for a while. Urd agreed finally.
Zeen thought of Rosetta again, trying to intuit from her own thoughts,
an answer to Rosetta’s interests in space psychology and astronomy.
Rosetta actually thought about space as a place she would like to go to.
She thought about how women would feel going into space, how their
cycles would be affected and enriching thoughts their minds would turn to.
Zeen felt that pleasurable feeling again. She had sat on her bed
lotused, her face forever carryinga smile. It occurred to her that
before Urd called, she was thinking about woman, her urges, feelings,
emotions, her body and its desire.
She was thinking too about why men restricted woman to a smile, her
lips, her thighs, her butt, while the total being stood there, ran there
or sat there holding within a profound structure, a fluid consciousness,
a flexible, strong body.
She realized that during Urd’scall, her attention had shifted from her
breasts to entertain his wanting to come over. She felt like calling him
and asking him to come over after all, but there was another matter
“Hi Rosetta,” she said as the phone was picked up.
“Hi Zeen. I was thinking about you tonight.”
“What was it about,” Zeen asked.
“Just the day we went hanging out, you know free shopping and found that
vase, the one we bought from that eastern-looking man who said he liked
“O my God, that one. Hope he shaped his beard,” Zeen came back. Then she
asked, “what about the vase?”
“I know you take delight in the female breasts. Did you observe the
symbol at its base, the day we bought it? Never mind. Whenever you come
over, we’ll look at it again,” Rosetta intimated.
“I asked Urd about your college entry,” she revealed.
“O yes,” Rosetta replied, I got accepted to the astronomy and space
“Congratulations,” Zeen rejoiced.
“Thanks,” Rosetta smiled. “I need tell you something about that vase,”
“What about it,” Zeen asked.
“I don’t know what you’re doing tonight, but tonight seems to be full of
some serious moonlight. I guess you must be looking at that beautiful,
chunky body of yours,” Rosetta proposed.
“What about that vase,” Zeen came back.
“You’re sharp tonight,” Rosetta observed. “Just an inscription other
than the one you saw. I noticed something else on it that I wanted to
share with you.”
“What does it look like,” Zeen asked.
“I don’t know yet, but it seems to appear and disappear,” she replied.
“What do you mean appear and disappear?” Zeen sounded intrigued.
“Wait, here it comes again, that face, that lower part of the body as if
formed from a straight column of rock.”
Zeen felt a warm shiver but this time she knew it was not sensations
emerging from her play with her breasts and body, though its first
impulse came from her nipples. She breathed heavy.
“Hey, are you OK? Rosetta asked.
“Yah,” zeen uttered, “it’s the moon and psychology,” she spoke
Rosetta burst into laughter. “Did you say, the moon and psychology?”
Rosetta wanted to make sure this was what she heard.
“The tide must be high too,” Zeen added as she began a soft moan,her
fingers slipping past her navel downward— sh.