July 10, 2005

Die Rättin

A billion years ago when I was living in downtown Berkeley, I had a brief relationship with a German woman who had a pet rat. It was nice little thing, smart, clean, affectionate, and weirdly placid. It -- I never learned its name, but its gender was emphatically female in conversation -- would accompany my lover on walks through Berkeley nestled in her shirt between her breasts, the rat's head periodically poking out over the lip of her top or through the gaps between buttons. It'd stay looking out like that for minutes on end, apparently just watching the world pass by. Being Berkeley, people who saw it were pretty evenly divided between those who flinched or had to stop themselves from running screaming, and those who thought it was cute.

And yes, I kissed those breasts. Wouldn't you?


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