Lean and athletic he was turned towards the woman and she was eyeing his circumcised cock with an interesting mixture of curiosity and indifference.
This was youthful desire tempered by the experience of age.
Heavy drooping breasts, some cellulite about the midriff and thighs.
HR Giger, the other artist, was quite clearly a worshipper of the god Priapus.
He was obsessed with penile erections and depicted them en masse, as in ‘Landscape’, half hidden behind a waterfall, as in ‘Cataract’, or as beautifully obscene, high magnification, action close-ups, as in ‘Erotomechanics’.
No, it was accidental, a fateful collision of incidents. ” Instead of heeding the maniac’s advice Henry showed him his fist, thumb protruding between first two fingers, and walked on up Berg Street to the library.
In the morning he had alighted at Cape Town station and walked through the busy streets. On the second floor he spent some three hours browsing through the shelves of the Art section.
He grabbed her and found her mouth, her breasts, her buttocks.
Her passion seemed as eager as his, but she pulled away and motioned towards the storeroom door across the way.
As he passed the Commercial Union Building he shuddered with revulsion at the memory of his brief Insurance career, now more than seven years into the past but still painfully present in his psyche. First he refreshed his memory by going to his old favourites, and then he began looking at unfamiliar artists in the hope of discovering some new genius.
On Greenmarket Square a preacher was shouting an important message: “God will judge you, every one of you, according to your ways. The time went quickly and it was past one when he emerged from the building and stepped into the harsh sunlight.
A memorial service would be held on September 8 at the Museum Africa, Newtown Cultural Precinct, in Johannesburg at 5.30pm. From The Life of Henry Fuckit, 1950-2015 by Ian Martin On Saturday afternoon he committed adultery with the café owner’s wife.