All of her life.The next day was a Tuesday, and she watched herself with a faint tingle of awareness as she went through the usual motions of living. ... trace of rain misted the sidewalks as she walked to the convenience store at the end of her block, and she was distantly grateful for the store's dry warmth. Back at her apartment, she sat down in the overstuffed arm chair in front of her television.The face on the screen talked endlessly about work, and duty, and obedience. Marcella looked at. It was nothing fromthere to lift her legs and pull the dainty little thingscompletely off. After I put her legs back down I just sat back on thedressing chair in her room and stared at her nakedbeauty. I adored how her chest lightly rose and fell witheach breath and how the light from the little lamp on thebedside table alternately shadowed and illuminated herperfect form. The thought occurred to me that she seemedalmost to have been carved from a piece of marble, like astatue by Michelangelo. More

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